Hiro's Lament
by Kafka'sdragon
Summary: An assassin has been hired to kill one of the students in class 3A. Rated M for language, violence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've reached a part in my first fiction where events portrayed in that story are based upon my invented back story. I was left with either leaving the reader in the dark or using flashbacks, but neither seemed a good way to handle this. So I've decided to write it into a separate story. **

**The story is set after the Mahora Festival arc. I am trying to stick to the facts in the manga, but since I've only read up to chapter 172, I may get some wrong. I will use English forms of address instead of the Japanese. **

**WARNING - This story represents a departure for me. The first chapter deserves the 'M' rating for language and violence.**

**The chapter title comes from the Guns N' Roses song 'Welcome to the Jungle.' **

**I do not own Negima, its characters or the setting. Like the rest of you, I enjoy reading about them. **

**

* * *

**

It was two in the morning and the bars were closing. Customers walked or staggered outside. Those getting into their cars were quickly pounced upon by LA's finest and led away in cuffs to spend the rest of the morning in the drunk tank. Johnny Lee Coker chose to walk instead today.

Johnny Lee was a big, burly man with a reputation for using the most violent means to solve any problem. He had held several jobs over his 32 years including longshoreman, security guard, drug runner and a collector for loan sharks. He was currently self-employed as a carjacker.

Tonight had been a lousy one. Johnny had brought in a primo car, a Porsche, but the cheap-ass bastard only gave him a few hundred dollars for it. Too much blood to resell he said. They'd have to chop it up and part it out to make any money.

It wasn't Johnny's fault that the dumb son of a bitch didn't want to get out. Johnny had to pop him one and then drag his sorry, dead ass out of the car. And the bitch he was with wouldn't stop screaming, so the carjacker had to shut her up as well. All that effort and for only a few, measly bucks.

He continued walking east on Rosecrans Avenue, past the dark store fronts. His thoughts were interrupted by the pressure of too many beers. Normally, Johnny didn't care were he relieved himself, but he didn't feel like being hassled by the cops right now, so he ducked into an alleyway.

He unzipped his trousers and began to urinate against the wall. Johnny considered what his plans for the weekend should be. He had enough money on him to get a hooker. He could even afford one of the whores on Alameda Street. He decided against it. He was heading to TJ for a little while. The Mexican whores were cheaper and weren't as picky about when his last bath was.

Johnny heard a throat clear. "What the hell?" he thought as he looked up. He could make out a shape near the mouth of the alley.

"Mr. Coker?" a voice asked. 'Mr. Johnny Lee Coker?"

"Who the hell wants to know?" Johnny asked as he quickly zipped himself back up. It was too dark for him to clearly see the other person.

"I'm just an errand boy Mr. Coker," the unseen speaker replied. "Mind if I smoke?"

Without waiting for an answer, the other person pulled out a lighter and a cigarette. The flame revealed a young, Asian male, wearing a patch over his left eye. He looked to be a little over average height and skinny. He wore a dark jacket and jeans. The man lit his cigarette and closed the lid on the lighter. Johnny could see little now, except for the glowing cherry.

The stranger took a few drags and then asked, "Does the name Todd Voorhees mean anything to you?"

"It don't mean shit," Johnny replied.

"How about Darla Mathis?"

"Nope." The big man was getting annoyed by the game of twenty questions.

"Well, a few months ago, Todd borrowed his old man's black Mercedes to take his girlfriend Darla to the prom," the stranger said. "That was the Mercedes you ripped off wasn't it?"

Johnny's eyes narrowed. "I don't know nothing about that," he replied. "You some kind of cop?"

"No, like I said, I'm an errand boy," he answered. "Where was I … oh yeah, you pulled Todd out at gun point, beat the crap out of him, and then fired three shots into his chest for good measure."

"Then you raped his girlfriend and put a bullet between her eyes," he continued his narration. "You've got issues Mr. Coker."

"And what's a little punk like you going to do about it?"

The stranger dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his shoe. "The boy's father wants to collect on the debt you owe him."

The big man laughed in response. "And you're going to do it?" he asked. "Since you have a death wish, I guess I'll just have to smear your ugly, yellow ass all over this alley."

"That's pretty funny Mr. Coker," the man chuckled in response. "Because I've been hired to smear your ugly, white ass all over this alley."

Johnny Lee Coker charged, but the stranger wasn't there any more. He stopped, confused as to what had happened, and felt the other man's foot slam into his back. Johnny staggered forward a few steps, then spun around and lunged.

He missed his opponent again, but felt a hand grab his right arm. The enraged man was swung forward and slammed into a brick wall. He could taste the blood in his mouth where his face had struck the brick. "The little bastard," Johnny thought and then the other man's foot smashed just below his knee. Bone broke and tendons tore under the impact. He screamed from the pain.

His unseen assailant struck him at will for the next several minutes, breaking ribs and shattering the man's jaw. Finally, the beating stopped. Johnny lay on his back, unable to move. Through a bloody mouth he tried to mutter "No more, no more."

The stranger unzipped his coat and took out his pistol and silencer. He twisted the silencer onto the end of the barrel. "As I said Mr. Coker, I'm just an errand boy." He fired three shots. Johnny's body jerked as each slug tore into his chest. He was still alive as the stranger took aim and fired once more, hitting him cleanly between the eyes.

* * *

The first, grey streaks of light were visible from the kitchen window, but Randall Voorhees didn't care. Randall was a successful businessman, forty years old, with a receding hairline. Normally, he was up before dawn, reading the daily newspaper. Today's paper lay untouched on the table. His coffee and toast had grown cold as well. He focused his attention solely on the black, cell phone that lay in the center of the table.

He had bought the phone last week from a convenience store. It was the kind that you bought minutes for as you needed them. He waited for a call to come in. Randall Voorhees wasn't a patient man. He would never have gotten as far in life had he been. But in the ten weeks since the brutal murder of his son and the boy's girlfriend, Randall had learned patience.

The phone rang and the middle-aged businessman grabbed it. "Hello?"

"Mr. Voorhees?" he heard the voice on the distant end ask.

"Yes," he replied.

"The debt has been collected."

"How can I be sure of that?"

"Check the Compton Police blotter over the next few days," the voice responded. "I'll give you ten days to deposit the rest of my fee."

"Did . . . did you follow my instructions completely?" he asked.

"To the letter."

"It didn't end too quickly then?"

"No, he felt everything your son did," the voice said. "Will there be anything else?"

"No, nothing," the businessman answered.

The voice bid him goodbye and then hung up. Randall set the phone down; he'd dispose of it later. He was surprised to see a drop of water on the table. Another followed and then another. After ten weeks, the man's grief finally broke through. He put his head on his arms and wept. He was still weeping when his wife come into the kitchen 30 minutes later. Randall knew that what he had done would never bring his son back, but in his heart, he couldn't think of what else a father could have done.

* * *

The plane trip from Los Angeles to Tokyo took nearly eleven hours. As he finished retrieving his luggage, Hiro received an email with a new job offer. The proposed meeting site wasn't too far out of his way, so he hailed a cab.

Saint Ignacious Catholic Church had been built during the occupation, but copied the style of European churches. The mid-day mass had ended and Hiro made his way through the milling parishioners to the confessional. He slipped inside and sat down on the hard, wooden chair. The hatch between the two sides slid back.

"Father forgive me for I have sinned," the young man said.

"I can well believe that Mr. Sasuki," the man on the other side replied. "You'll find an envelope under your seat."

Hiro reached down and pulled out a sealed envelope. Inside was a girl's school photo. He gave a low whistle. "She's pretty," he thought to himself.

"Is something wrong?" the other man asked.

"She seems young to have pissed off somebody enough to want her dead," the assassin answered. "What is she? High school?"

"Third year middle school actually," his prospective employer replied. "As to why . . . what does it matter?"

"Any bodyguards?"

"None, but the school does have above average security," the man noted. "It's a conglomeration of many schools from elementary to university level."

"My fee is …" Hiro started to say, but the other man cut him off.

"One million up front and another afterwards," he said. "I've taken the liberty to make the initial payment."

"There's just one thing," he continued. "You need to complete this by the 17th of August."

"And that's the only condition?"

"That's it."

"I accept the job," Hiro told him. "Where is this school Mister ah?"

"Mister Yoshi will do," the man replied. "The school is in a place called Mahora."


	2. Riders on the Storm

**A/N: The second chapter is inspired by the Door's song 'Riders on the Storm.' Play it in the background while you read. **

**Before I get flamed by eagle-eyed readers, Hiro does not wear an eye patch normally. That was used in the dark alley to preserve his night vision when he lit the cigarette. In case you wonder about this, I suggest you watch the 'Myth Busters' episode about pirates and eye patches.**

**The story is set after the festival arc during the time Negi and company are suppose to be in Wales. Obviously, it will vary quit a bit from the manga since I haven't read the translations on the badge game yet.**

**I don't own the Negima characters. But if Jennon-Donnon ever does manage to wrest away ownership . . . aw, who am I kidding. I couldn't afford to pay him off either.**

* * *

**Riders on the Storm**

The first term finals were a thing of the past and the attention of the Mahora Middle School students turned to the upcoming break. Most looked forward to the Summer vacation, but for two students in room 665, the school recess posed a tremendous problem.

"But Chiziru," Natsumi exclaimed, "I can't bring him home with me."

The freckle-faced student was agitated over what to do about her "brother" during the break. Kotaro was a homeless boy who had been more or less adopted by Natsumi's roommate, Chiziru. They had passed him off as the girl's younger brother who had come to live with her due to family troubles.

"Take it easy Natsumi," the other girl replied. "We'll think of something."

"Like what?" she asked as she threw herself onto the couch. "Hi Mom, Dad. I found a ten-year old stray boy. Can I keep him?"

Chiziru's face took on a thoughtful expression. "Now that's an idea," she remarked. "I wonder how long Kotaro can remain a dog for."

Most people took a look at Chiziru's impressive bust and her normally cheerful expression, and assumed that her bra-size was higher than her IQ. Natsumi knew her roommate was intelligent; she ranked in the top 15 for the school. But at times like this, she wondered if other people weren't right.

"You can't expect him to remain a dog for the entire Summer vacation," she said in exasperation. "Beside, what would I do if my parents told me to take him to the pound?"

"I guess you're right," the amply endowed girl replied. "If only we had an excuse to stay over the break."

The front door opened and slammed shut as the third roommate, Ayaka Yukihiro, stormed in. The blonde-haired girl kicked her shoes off and stomped into the living area.

"So how'd the student council meeting go?" Chiziru asked.

She was answered by a low growl. "I take it there's a problem?" she said.

"No problem," Ayaka replied, the frustration dripping from her voice. "Guess who was chosen to head up the Star Festival committee?"

"But that's an important position isn't it class rep?" Natsumi asked.

"Of course it is," the new committee chairman replied. "But it's almost the Summer break and I need to find people who are going to stay and help out."

Chiziru and Natsumi looked at one another. The taller girl arched an eyebrow and the freckled actress shrugged in response.

"Certainly we'll help you Ayaka," Chiziru said.

"Huh?" the class rep replied. "You will?"

"We couldn't possibly leave our friend to handle all of this by herself," she told her.

Natsumi was the one in the acting club, but she watched in amazement as Chiziru put on a performance worthy of an Academy Award. She admired how her friend could come up with lines off the cuff and deliver them with a straight face. Perhaps she could get her to help the next time she had to do ad libs.

* * *

Meanwhile, Yuna Akashi was having her own troubles. She was on the downstairs phone, talking long distance to her father.

"But Daddy," she cried into the phone, "what do you mean you're going to be held up?"

Professor Akashi was one of the top computer scientists in the world of academia. He was constantly on the go, traveling from one city to the next. At the moment, he was working on a project at Rice University in Texas. A project that forced the family to change their vacation plans.

"All of my friends are going to be there," his daughter pleaded. "We can't just not go."

"Please try to understand Yuna," the professor said. "We're on the verge of a breakthrough that could revolutionize entire industries."

Yuna understood basketball and the importance of picking up after yourself. Words like Nano tubes and Fullerenes were unimportant to her, though they meant a great deal to her father.

"So how long are you going to be in Houston?" she asked.

"One more week here to confirm our finding," he replied. "And then I'll make a presentation in Boston the following week."

"Two weeks huh?" Yuna did the calculations and figured she'd miss the trip with her friends entirely.

"Thanks for understanding," the professor told her. "I'll make it up to you when I return."

"That's what you said last time," Yuna thought as she hung up the phone.

Dejectedly, she headed off to tell everyone the bad news.

"I wonder who won the betting pool this time," she thought as she walked up the stairs. "Probably Sakurako. Again."

Yuna's friends were properly sorry to hear of her bad luck. They all gave their sincerest condolences, but it wouldn't prevent them from having fun next week she thought. She watched silently as Sakurako collected lunch tickets from the other girls. "Knew it," she sighed.

The girl jumped when she heard somebody ask "Knew what?"

She looked up to see Ayaka's face. "Oh my father's been delayed another two weeks," she responded glumly.

"What? Again?"

"Yep."

"What are you going to do now?" the blonde girl asked.

"Guess I'll hang around until he gets back," Yuna replied.

"Since you're going to be here anyway," the class rep said, "why don't you help out with the Star Festival committee?"

"Star Festival committee?"

"The community celebrates it every August while the students are on break," Ayaka told her. "I'm on this year's committee and we could use your help."

"Okay," Yuna agreed. "Sounds better than watching TV all day."

"Thanks Yuna," Ayaka said, smiling broadly. She turned and nearly bumped into another student. "Zazie, what is it?"

The silent acrobat pointed a brightly painted nail to her chin.

"You want to help too?" the class rep asked.

Her class mate nodded her head.

Ayaka was overjoyed. She had been afraid that nobody would be around to help prepare, and now she had four volunteers. Briefly she considered asking Evangeline and Chachamaru too since they never left the campus, but she decided that would be pressing her luck. Things were definitely looking up.

* * *

The train was crammed full of commuters that afternoon. Hiro disliked the sense of being pressed in on all sides. The car would lurch or shutter every now and then and the people inside would rattle around like marbles in a box. He really did hate public transportation.

The loudmouth yakking into his cell phone wasn't helping the situation either. The idiot didn't seem to realize that not everybody wanted to listen to his boring love life. If he was going to share, at least he could spice it up a little. Like that Australian girl Hiro sat next to on the plane.

"I think I'm oversexed," she declared. "My girlfriend suggested I hook up with a cute guy and do it in the jet's bathroom."

She was definitely more entertaining than this guy.

His thoughts returned to his new assignment. He wouldn't have accepted a contract on a middle school student, but he was intrigued by this girl. It wasn't just that she was cute; he had known more beautiful women. He decided it was the look in her eyes. It was a contradictory mix of intensity and serenity.

Thirty minutes later, Hiro stepped onto the nearly empty platform at the train station. The place was deserted now, but that would change during the rush before and after classes. As he walked outside, he had to shade his eyes against the bright sunlight. He noticed a quiet looking café nearby, but he decided he had other things to do at the moment. He adjusted the straps of his duffle bag and began walking.

It didn't take long for him to realize that Mahora was more than a conglomeration of schools. He gawked about like a tourist, but he carefully cataloged landmarks for future reference. It took nearly an hour for him to make his way into the warehouse district. The area was seedier than the rest of the city, but it wasn't as rough as some of the dives he'd been in.

He found a "hotel" and paid for his first week, carefully counting out a number of small bills and change into the clerk's hand. His room had cracked paint and smelled musty, but it was on the fourth floor and had a sturdy door with a good lock.

Hiro opened his bag and began to put away his things. He pulled out a battered briefcase last. He placed it on the bed and unlocked the clasps. It contained school supplies and a number of used text books. He unloaded the items from the case and put them to the side. Running his hand along the inside, he released the catch that opened the false bottom. Inside were the pieces of his rifle, secure in the insulating foam.

The rifle had been custom made for him. It was light-weight, could be assembled within a minute, and highly accurate to 800 meters. He took out each piece and carefully inspected them. Satisfied, he replaced everything back into the case and locked it.

The assassin opened a newspaper and turned to the help wanted section. He noted that the airport was looking for a mechanic and the golf course needed a groundskeeper. The middle school had an opening too, but it was for a PE instructor.

"Must have degree," he read. "Damn, if only it was for a janitor or a cook."

Several places near the school were advertising for staff. He didn't think he'd want to work retail sales, but the food service positions were a possibility. He circled several of them and headed out to acquire a job.

* * *

It was near evening when the sports girls, without their friend Yuna, entered the Starbooks shop. The girl behind the counter looked up as they walked in.

"Hi girls," she said cheerfully, "Do you want the usual?"

The trio nodded in unison.

"One mocha latte and five skim milks," she recited.

"I'll have another milk," Ako told her. She didn't want her friend Makie to pull ahead of her.

"You two and milk," Akira snorted as they made their way to a table. "It doesn't work that way."

"Well something sure worked for Yuna," Makie replied as she sat down. "By the way, where is she?"

"She's unpacking her bags," the swimmer answered.

"So she's missing out again because her father's out of town," Makie said with an air of disgust. "That's so unfair."

"Doesn't he care about her?" Ako asked.

"He's a busy man," the tall girl responded. "Between rebuilding the entire computer network and his research, he doesn't have much time right now."

"But what about all of the other times?" Ako asked.

"Yeah, he's always that busy," the gymnast added.

A voice interrupted the conversation. "Good evening ladies," they heard. "Who gets what drinks?"

They looked up to see a young man wearing a Starbooks apron and carrying a tray with their drinks. Ako's mouth fell open and Akira swore she saw little hearts swirl around Makie's head.

Although the swimmer though the guy looked cute too, she kept her wits about her. "I had the latte," she said. "They have the milk."

He set the cup in front of Akira, smiling as he did so.

"Hi, my name's Makie," the little gymnast introduced herself.

"I'm Akira," the dark-haired girl added.

The little blonde girl sat with her mouth open. "Dwah," was all she managed to say.

"And our friend's name is Ako," Akira told him as she reached across to close the girl's mouth.

Makie had a star struck grin plastered across her face. "You're new here aren't you?" she asked. "What's your name?"

"Yeah, I just started today," he replied. "My name's Hiro."

"So do you and the other students come here often?" he asked.

"Oh all the time," Makie answered. Her smile turned into a frown. "Except it's the end of the term and a lot of us are leaving for the break."

The server looked disappointed. "Too bad," he said. "I guess I won't be seeing you for awhile."

"We've got other customers," the girl behind the counter called out.

"I've got to go," he replied as he dashed off.

"Maybe we could wait a week or two before we go," Makie remarked as she watched him walk away. She turned to the others and smiled. "That would give Yuna a chance to come along, right?"

"But we've already paid the deposit," Akira reminded her. "If we don't show up, we all lose our money."

* * *

The first committee meeting started at 7:30 PM. At 7:32 PM, the chairman evicted one Kotaro Murakami from the proceedings.

"Why do I have to leave?" he demanded to know. "I haven't even had dinner yet."

"Because this is an important meeting," Ayaka shouted back. "And you're interrupting it."

"But I'm hungry," he responded. As if on cue, his stomach growled.

Natsumi walked over to the boy while rummaging through her purse. She pulled out a few bills and held them out to him. She had originally resented having Kotaro pose as her little brother, but over the past few weeks, she found herself growing protective of the young boy. "Why don't you get something to hold you till dinner?" she offered.

Reluctantly, Kotaro took the money and departed. "Sometimes he's too much like a little brother," she thought as the door closed. "But that's not such a bad thing."

"So that's your brother?" Yuna asked.

"Yep."

"You don't have an older brother that looks like him do you?" the dark-haired girl asked, remembering Nagi Springfield's friend from the festival.

"Um, no," Natsumi replied.

"Let's get back to business," Ayaka told them.

Ayaka, Chiziru, Natsumi, Yuna and Zazie gathered about the table.

Yuna glanced around. "Are we the only ones on the committee?"

"No," the class rep answered. "The festival is too big for a single committee, so we'll have to form several sub-committees to get everything done."

"I thought you could handle decorations for the school," she continued. "But first you need to select someone to lead the committee."

"I thought you were the chairman," Chiziru remarked.

"That's for all of the committee's," she answered. "I'll need somebody on each of the sub-committee's to make sure the work is being done."

"Chiziru would be a good choice," Natsumi suggested.

The nominee was about to protest when Yuna cut her off. "That's a great idea," the basketball player said enthusiastically.

Zazie nodded her head in agreement.

"Let's vote then," Ayaka said. "Everyone in favor of making Chiziru chairman of the decorations committee raise you hands."

Three hands shot up into the air. The new chairman glared at her freckled roommate. Natsumi shuddered in response, but kept her hand raised. Ayaka congratulated Chiziru and then stated that they had two weeks to get everything ready.

Yuna scratched her head in puzzlement. "Why do we celebrate Tanabata on August 7th? Doesn't it fall in July?"

"Celebrating it on July 7th puts it too close to the Mahora Festival," Ayaka explained. "And August also puts it closer to the traditional date of the seventh day of the seventh lunar month."

* * *

Kotaro had wandered around the streets since he'd been kicked out of the dorm room. Ayaka had really ticked him off, but he knew better than to make a scene. It would embarrass Chiziru, and that had to be avoided at all costs. Anyone who could stand up to a demon with nothing more than an open hand slap, was somebody he didn't want to cross.

He had yet to figure out the relationship that existed between the two girls. There were times Ayaka and Chiziru acted as close as sisters, and other times they seemed like two gladiators locked in deadly combat with one another. The class rep fought likewise with Asuna, but she'd never back down against her unless Negi intervened. Not so with her roommate.

His stomach still rumbled from time to time, but Natsumi's money remained in his pocket. He took enough charity from them without that. He'd find a way to slip it back into her purse, like always. It was a shame he'd spent all of his earnings from patrolling the festival, but he had a great time with Negi and the others. He wished he'd have won the tournament prize though. It wouldn't have made him rich, but he wouldn't feel like such a leech.

With a start, Kotaro realized that he was standing near the Starbooks store and it was closing time. He watched as the night manager, Keiko Yomuri he thought her name was, and a man he hadn't seen before start to lock up.

The woman smacked her forehead. "I forgot my purse," she said.

"I'll get it for you," the man offered. "Where did you leave it?"

"It's in the office."

Kotaro watched with interest as the man entered the darkened store. The boy didn't detect any ki coming from him, but he moved like a trained fighter.

He was about to leave when three men approach the lone woman. He recognized them as some local toughs who periodically shook down businesses for protection money.

"Evening Yomuri," one of the men said. "We need to talk about some business."

"What's the matter?" she asked. "Are you out of cigarette money?"

"It's time to renew your insurance policy," he replied.

"Then you need to speak with Mr. Namura," she told him. "I'm just an employee."

"You know that accidents can occur just like that," he said, snapping his fingers. He turned to one of his followers. "Why don't you show her?"

The man picked up a waste bin and threw it at the plate glass window. It shattered under the impact.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Yomuri shouted.

Kotaro was about to intervene when the door opened and the stranger rushed out carrying a purse. "Miss Yomuri, are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine Hiro," she answered.

"Are these men bothering you?"

"Yeesh," Kotaro thought. "Do you have to ask?"

"I said I'm fine," Yomuri told him. "Just stay out of this."

"Like I said," the thug resumed, "accidents happen. About your insurance . . .."

"So you're her insurance agent?" the man called Hiro asked. He walked closer as he spoke. "It seems you owe on her claim."

"Claim?' the man said in shock. He then began laughing. "Claim right."

"Here's your claim asshole," he shouted as he took a swing at the newcomer.

Hiro dropped the purse and caught his assailant's hand. He turned so that the man's arm was held out to the side. He twisted a little more and his attacker yelled in pain. The assassin brought his foot up and kicked the man savagely in the face, knocking him backwards.

The other two thugs rushed him, but Hiro dove to the side. They smacked into one another as he rolled to his feet. The opponent on his left took a swing, but he snared the man's arm with his own and held it immobile. He then lifted his legs and scissored the other man's neck between his feet. A quick twist of his hips flipped the one he held by the neck into the air. The hood fell hard to the pavement and lay still. The other man screamed as his arm pulled out of its socket. He fell to his knees and whimpered.

Hiro stepped back and surveyed the carnage. "Are you alright Miss Yomuri?" he asked. He picked up her purse and held it out to her.

"I'm . . . I'm . . . I'm fine," she managed to say. "What did you do?"

"I just filed your claim," he answered. "Do you have a cell phone?"

She numbly nodded in response.

"Call the police," he told her. "I'll make sure these guys don't go anywhere."

Kotaro grinned and swiftly departed. He would remember this Hiro fellow. Briefly, he wondered what it would be like to fight him.


	3. Behind Blue Eyes

**A/N: Life has been busy of late. I've finally had a little time to write. No action this time, but a couple of important elements are introduced. The story is set during the period when Negi and the White Wing are in Wales.**

**The chapter is inspired by the Who song.**

**Standard disclaimer: I don't own the Negima universe or characters. However, Hiro is mine. **

* * *

**Behind Blue Eyes**

The spiky-haired robot stood motionless in the university laboratory. A girl sporting twin braids and wearing a white, lab coat sat in front of the machine. A panel in its chest cavity was open, and she intently studied the circuitry inside. The girl took the end of a cable and inserted the connector into a USB slot inside the compartment. She rolled the chair back until she came level with a computer console.

She quickly typed in a series of commands on the keyboard and watched the monitor anxiously. "Accessing security level 1 … completed" she read. Then the screen displayed "Accessing security level 2 … completed." She waited, hardly daring to breath as the words "Accessing security level 3" flashed on the screen. The mad scientist of class 3A had spent nearly all of her free time since the festival trying to decipher the programming code her friend and mentor Chao had used on the robots. "Damn!" she cried out in frustration as the screen returned "Permission denied."

Hakase hated to admit it, but she was having no luck cracking the encryption used on the robots. Without the final password, which only Chao knew, she couldn't alter the computer's program. That left her an army of robots that couldn't be controlled. She could erase the operating system and rebuild it, but that was a daunting task at best. She had no illusions about her ability to recreate Chao's achievement. Simply put, compared to the scientist from the future, Hakase was out of her league.

She stood, placed her hands behind her and stretched backwards until she felt a pop. Her watch alarm starting beeping. She looked at it and noticed it was time for lunch. Deciding the robot could wait awhile longer, she left the lab.

The computer monitor displayed the words "Reboot sequence initiated … complete." Two lights where the figure's eyes should be flickered on. With its right appendage, the robot removed the cable and closed the panel. It moved out in order to fulfill its final command. It needed to reach the World Tree Plaza. Anyone who got in its way would be neutralized.

* * *

Hiro walked through the streets of the sprawling campus, preoccupied with figuring out his next move. He had found the middle school student dormitory without any trouble; now he had to find which room his target was in, if she hadn't already left for the break.

He also found that security was watchful enough to keep males from loitering around the dorm. He hadn't been there ten minutes when he was approached by one of the agents and asked to move along. He also noticed that visitors were stopped at the door and waited outside for the residents to meet them.

Finally paying attention to his surroundings, Hiro found himself in a large plaza. It reminded him of several he had seen in Europe. A large tree dominated the view. He had seen it from several parts of Mahora and wondered just how big it was. Taking a moment to get his bearings, the young man struck off down a landscaped path he thought would take him to the Starbooks.

He had traveled maybe thirty paces when he heard numerous shouts and screams from up ahead. A mad rush of people, many of them completely naked, charged towards him. He jumped to the side of the trail and let them pass. He shook his head in disbelief, "When did streaking make a come back?"

From the direction the crowd had come, Hiro could see a large, muscular looking man approach. He wore his blonde hair in a spiked style. The assassin saw flashing red lights where the man's eyes should be, and decided that the crowd had the right idea after all.

He whirled about and started running down the path when he collided into another person. As they fell, the young man felt a wave of heat wash over him. He fell prostrate and little dots swam before his eyes. Something soft lay beneath him.

"Get off me!" he heard. His vision cleared and he stared into a pair of angry, blue eyes. With a start, he discovered he was on top of a girl. He quickly got to a kneeling position and received a further shock. Both of them were undressed.

Hiro glanced over his shoulder to see the blonde terminator striding towards them. It moved at a slow, measured pace. He grabbed the girl by the wrist and pulled her in the direction of the bushes.

"What do you think you're doing?" she shouted.

"Run now," he shouted back as he pushed past the branches, "ask questions later."

* * *

"Stupid committee!" Ayaka thought savagely as she trudged along the path. She should be in Wales right now, instead of dealing with the minute details of planning a festival. If she had her way, she'd be with her adorable, homeroom teacher. But no, she was stuck here for another two weeks, all because the Mage vs. Mars event was a hit.

Since her father sponsored the third day event, everybody around the campus assumed she had organized it. Only a few of her classmates knew it was Negi's idea. And they were all in Wales, having as grand time no doubt.

She sighed. Thinking of the diminutive teacher brought the pain again. God she felt betrayed. After all she had done, running down clues about his father, helping to get approval for the club, you'd think she would have been asked to come along. Of course the class rep didn't blame Negi. Heavens no! She laid the blame all on Asuna.

"I don't like little brats like him," Asuna was always saying. What a hypocrite she was. That girl was always being found in compromising positions with the boy. And if those were looks of friendly concern Asuna gave him, then Ayaka was the monkey.

It would serve her right if something bad happened in Wales. Not really bad she amended. Just bad enough to convince everyone how unfit that violent, ape-girl was to look after Negi.

Ayaka heard a commotion ahead and had to throw herself against a hedge bordering the walkway to avoid being crushed by a stampede of nude students. She gawked at them in amazement as they vanished down the path. She turned around only to be knocked down by another runner.

"Ow," she thought as the pebbles dug into her tender flesh. She looked up into her assailant's face. He was a young man, maybe college age. He was blinking as if trying to dislodge something from his brown eyes. And the idiot was lying on top of her. "Get off me!" she yelled.

The man got to knees and glanced over his shoulder. He grabbed Ayaka by the wrist and sprang to his feet, pulling her up and into the bushes. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Run now," he shouted back, "ask questions later."

They ran, pushing past more brush and startling several passers-by. They reached a small clearing surrounded by bushes and the man stopped. He released Ayaka's arm. She bent over and tried to catch her breath. She noted scratches along her arms, her knees, her …. She looked up angrily. "Where are my clothes?"

"Probably the same place mine went," he replied as Ayaka realized he was as naked as she.

His eyes scanned her from head to foot and Ayaka felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "What are you staring at?"

"I'm imagining what you look like with your clothes on," he remarked.

Without realizing it, Ayaka returned his gaze. He had a handsome, though not too handsome, face. His shoulders weren't broad, but she saw the muscles in his chest and stomach. Her eyes dipped down below his waist and she suddenly spun around. Her face turned a bright crimson as she thought "Oh my God!"

"What kind of pervert are you?" she asked in a shrill voice.

"If I'm the pervert," he replied, "why were you looking there?"

"Can't you at least cover it up?"

"With what?" he countered. "I don't see any fig leaves around here."

"I'm cursed," the girl thought to herself. "First Negi leaves and now this. How could this possibly get worse?"

"Hey Ayaka," she heard from the other side of the bushes. "Is that you?"

The class rep watched in horror as the bushes shook and then parted to reveal Kotaro and Chizuru's faces.

"See, I told you it was her," the boy said and then his face froze as if turned to stone.

"I c-c-can explain this," the blonde girl stammered.

"I'll bet," Chizuru replied. She put her finger tips to her mouth and giggled. "So who's your friend?"

"I'm Hiro," the man introduced himself.

"And he's no friend," Ayaka responded. "I just met him."

"Really?" her roommate replied, her smile almost turning into a leer.

If Ayaka had bet her face couldn't get any redder, she'd have lost. "Just go get me some clothes," she begged. "Please."

"The dorm is a good distance away," Chizuru told her. "Hope you don't mind the wait?"

"I have an account at the boutique," Ayaka said. "Pick out something and have them charge me."

"What about Hiro?"

"That's okay," the man commented. "I can hang out like this."

"Get him something too!" Ayaka shouted. "Just hurry!"

* * *

"What a mess," Yuna thought as she surveyed her father's office. "He may be a wiz with computers but he can't keep house."

She began by attacking the piles of papers, books and magazines on his desk. In short order, she had them sorted into several stacks. Several cardboard boxes had been hidden by the accumulated papers. She lifted one off its precarious perch and set it on the table. A thick layer of dust covered the lid. "Uggh," thought Yuna. "I bet he hasn't dusted these since we moved in here."

Cautiously, she removed the lid and began to look through the contents. It held numerous school papers that she had brought home over the years. She found the spelling test she had got an 'A' on, the picture of the bear (or maybe it was a fox), and even her certificate of achievement in physical education. About halfway through the box, she found her wand.

Her mother had given Yuna a wand with a star-shaped tip on her fifth birthday. For years, she had carried it around as her favorite toy. She had been devastated when it had been lost. "There you are," she cried, snatching it up. "Daddy must have packed you and forgot where when we moved."

She and her friends had played a lot with the wand. Yuna always got to be the beautiful enchantress in those games. "I wish you were a real magic wand," she thought. "Then I could clean up around here with just a swish."

She brandished the wand and moved it in a wide circle. "Wingardium leviosa," she cried. In response, another box crashed down on the table, spilling numerous photographs all over.

Yuna set the wand aside and began to gather the pictures. She hadn't seen these ones before. Many of them showed her father and mother, with other people or with each other. Others showed pictures of areas struck by some calamity: earthquake, windstorm, volcanic eruption or such. She was shocked and sickened to find one showing animals being dug out from underneath a mud slide. She didn't understand why her parents were at all of these scenes of disaster, but each picture had her mother's handwriting showing place, month and year.

A picture with her mother and the McGuiness woman caught her attention. It showed the two of them standing in a mountainous area with snow on the ground. They were laughing and smiling as if they were having a good time. Yuna turned the picture over and saw the words "Wales, December '93' written on the back. She searched through the remaining pictures and found 6 others from the same time.

Two more showed the blonde woman with her mother. Her father posed with the McGuiness woman in another. The fourth one showed her mother holding what appeared to be a baby wrapped in a white blanket. The fifth picture was a group shot with Yuna as a little girl, her parents, the McGuiness woman holding the white bundle, and older man and a blonde-haired girl about a few years older than Yuna.

For the life of her, Yuna couldn't remember ever seeing these people before, or being in Wales for that matter. True, she would have been only five, but it bothered her to be completely blank on it. The last picture was the biggest puzzle of them all. It showed Yuna holding the baby. On the back, her mother had written the location and date like the others. But she had added the phrase 'Future partners?' at the end.

* * *

The patio outside Starbooks wasn't as busy as normal; many of the students had already departed the campus. A sheet of plywood covered the lower half of the front window. The word was that vandals had broken it. Ayaka would have been happy to know the perpetrators had been incarcerated, but she was too busy trying to forget this morning's encounter.

The class president had her share of embarrassing moments, not as many as Asuna to be sure, but nothing like this. To wind up naked with a complete stranger was bad. To be seen by her roommate and Natsumi's little, brat of a brother was infinitely worse. She'd never live this down if the others found out, especially Negi.

"I thought all of the robots with the strip beams had been destroyed during the game," she remarked.

"I guess there was one left," Chizuru replied. "We were lucky Hakase was able to deactivate it."

"Yeah, real lucky," the blonde girl said with more than a little trace of sarcasm.

"You're not still upset are you?"

"Of course I am," Ayaka responded. "Who wouldn't be?"

"At least it was with a cute guy."

Ayaka just stared at her roommate. Chizuru wanted to laugh at her outraged expression but held herself in check. "Or would it have been better if he was eight years younger?"

The rep's mouth fell open and her eyes threatened to bulge out of their sockets. She tried to respond but her mind was too stunned to form a coherent thought. Looking into her roommate's eyes, Ayaka was reminded of a cat stalking a mouse.

"I wonder why it is that when a boy other than our teacher shows any interest in you," Chizuru continued, "you either ignore it or act disgusted."

"I don't," she weakly protested.

"No?" the other girl responded. Though still serious, her features shifted to something less feral. "I'm really concerned about you Ayaka."

"You've put Negi on a high pedestal," she continued. "So high, you may never reach him."

"Who are you going to turn to then?" she asked.

Shock gave way to anger as the rep snapped back "Screw your sympathy!"

"I've never made any secret how I feel about Negi," she said, her voice rising above the din around them. "And I've never questioned your relationships."

She had been about to continue her rant when she was frozen by a familiar voice. "Are these your friends Miss?"

Her head swiveled to glance over her shoulder as Natsumi replied "Yes."

She saw the freckled girl standing next to the young man she had met earlier. He wore a green apron emblazoned with the store emblem and carried a tray with three cups on it. Her anger suddenly died and humiliation rushed to fill the void. The blonde girl bolted out of her chair. The three watched speechlessly as she raced away.

"Um, did I miss something?" Natsumi asked tentatively.

"Seems she's still upset," Chizuru observed.

"Looks that way," the young man replied as he set the cups on the table. "I wish there was some way to make it up to her."

The amply endowed girl leaned over and selected her drink. Hiro tried to ignore the view of her cleavage as she settled back in her chair. "If you want to apologize," she said smiling, "I think we can help you."

"Uh oh," the shorter girl muttered under her breath.

"Did you say something Natsumi?"

"Nope," she replied. "Not a thing."

* * *

The decorations committee gathered about the dinning table for their meeting. Ayaka sat on the couch and sulked. Chizuru's words had stung, but the rep had been thinking about what the other girl had said. While she was as interested in boys, she could never trust their motives.

Ayaka knew she was attractive. She was also the daughter of a wealthy man. When boys looked at her, men too for that matter, she never could be sure what they saw. Sometimes it was a pretty face and a shapely pair of legs. Other times it was her families' money. Only her adorable homeroom teacher saw her for herself.

The front door opened as Kotaro walked in carrying a stack of boxes. "Pizza's here," he announced. He set the boxes on the table and then took the top one over to Ayaka. He placed it on the couch next to her. "The delivery guy's outside waiting for a tip," he told her.

Ayaka sighed. She didn't even have the energy to argue with the twerp. She opened the box and stared at the words "I'm sorry" written in pepperoni slices. She grabbed her purse and left the room.

She found the young man outside. "So you deliver pizzas too?"

"No," Hiro replied. "I had to pay the guy to let me deliver these."

"I know we had a lousy introduction," he continued, "so I wanted to try again. Hello, my name is Hiro Sasuki."

Ayaka felt self-conscious as she remembered him staring at her. "Look Mr. Sasuki, I don't know what you want, but …."

"I'd like to know your name," he interrupted.

"Ayaka," she replied. "Ayaka Yukihiro."

"I'm sorry for embarrassing you earlier Miss Yukihiro," he told her. "I won't take any more of your time."

He turned to leave. "Wait," she called. "I need to apologize as well."

Hiro stopped and turned back towards her. "I know this morning wasn't your fault," she continued. "If anything, I should blame Hakase for activating that robot."

"Since I got the pizza, is there anything I can do for you?"

"I'm not familiar with Mahora," he replied. "Could you show me around tomorrow?"

* * *

It was a scene that could have been in any office around the world. Thirty men in business suits gathered around a massive, wooden table. The oldest man and chief executive officer sat at the head of the table, flanked by his senior most administrators. The further they sat from the CEO, the more junior their position was. But all had shared saki with the Kumicho, all except for the man who sat at the foot of the table.

The man wore a suit as well and had his black hair slicked back. Though in his thirties, he was still the youngest one in the room. They quietly observed as he spread the square of white, linen cloth in front of him. An ornate, wooden box rested near his elbow. He lifted the lid and set it to the side. Upon the black velvet folds lay a tanto. Its blade gleamed in the harsh office lights.

He picked up the dagger, his face an impassive mask. Without hesitation, he placed his left hand on top of the cloth and spread his fingers apart. He placed the edge of the tanto over the smallest finger, above the top knuckle. The blade had been honed as razor sharp as a surgical knife. With a precision like a chef, he pressed the blade down and forward, severing the finger tip clear through.

It hadn't been as painful as he feared, but he couldn't keep it entirely out of his expression. He let the tanto fall to the table and held a wadded kerchief against the bleeding stub. He pulled the edges of the white cloth over the severed tip. The kobun to his left picked up the bundle and reverentially presented it to the man at the head of the table. The Kumicho accepted it and smiled in return. The man who had just finished slicing off his finger tip tightly tied the kerchief to staunch the oozing blood.

"Our next order of business," the Kumicho said, "is the proposed merger with the Okada-gumi."

"Their Kumicho fails to see the benefits of this arrangement," he continued in a business-like tone. "In order to ensure our continued prosperity, the joining of the Futaba and Okada families must go forward."

"Koichi," he said to the man who's offering he had just accepted, "Ichiro Okada has a granddaughter. Take some men and persuade the young lady to accept our hospitality. Perhaps then her grandfather might see the wisdom of our proposal."

The man at the table's end bowed his head in response. "It will be as you say."

* * *

Hiro lay back on his bed and studied his target's photograph. The girl's eyes still intrigued him. Intensity and serenity seemed to sum her up pretty well. He put the picture on the night stand and switched off the light. Tomorrow promised to be another interesting day.


	4. Another One Bites the Dust

**A/N: Ah, the joys of Summer. Like the girls of class 3A, I finally have some time to myself, which means more time for writting, reading, and otherwise kickin' back and enjoying life.**

**I've been trying to give each of the girls in the story a little bit of the spotlight. This time it's Zazie's turn. Sorry in advance if she seems OOC, but come on folks, in the manga she doesn't have much of a character. **

**Required disclaimer: I don't own it, I don't own them, but he is my creation. Got it?**

**This chapter's title is from the Queen song. Why? Cause X-Serac is right and Queen kicks ass.**

**

* * *

**

Natsumi balanced the laundry basket on her knee as she turned the knob. The door swung easily in. She could hear her roommate talking into a cell phone. Chizuru seemed to be arguing with the person on the other end.

"But Mom, I'm not avoiding you and Dad," the brown-haired girl protested. "I'm helping with this year's Star Festival."

Natsumi put her foot against the door and pushed it shut. She carried the basket over to the couch and began folding clothes.

"Of course there's not a boy involved," Chizuru insisted.

The shorter girl had an amused expression on her face as she pulled out a pair of Kotaro's pants. She removed a wad of bills from the pocket. Her expression soured as she realized it was the money she had given him a few nights ago.

"So how is Dad doing?" the other girl asked. "What did the doctor say?"

The freckled student paused in her folding. She recalled that her friend's father had at one time been a security guard, but he had quit after being seriously injured. Natsumi didn't know all of the details, but she remembered he been shot while trying to stop a murder attempt. It had taken a couple years of therapy for him to walk again.

"That's good to hear," her friend replied.

"I'm busy with the festival until the eighth," Chizuru continued. "I'll make arrangements to come home as soon as possible."

The girl smiled in response to something her mother said. "I love you too Mom," she said. "Goodbye." She flipped the lid on the phone closed and exhaled deeply.

Natsumi resumed her chore. "So I guess your Mother was a little upset about you staying here over the break?"

"Just a little," she giggled. "Say, isn't it Ayaka's week to do laundry?"

"Yep," the little red-head girl answered. "But these are mostly Kotaro's, and you know how she is about touching his stuff."

"Do you remember when she tried to fold his underwear while wearing oven mitts?" she continued. Both girls laughed at that image.

"By the way, where is Ayaka?" Natsumi asked.

"She's out with that guy she met yesterday," Chirzuru replied. "Probably boring him to tears with the standard new student tour speech."

* * *

"You're kidding me, right?" Hiro laughed as he listened to Ayaka's story.

"No, I'm not," she replied, laughing as well. "We landed right in front of our father too. Were we embarrassed."

Ayaka had initially been reluctant to spend the morning giving a tour of Mahora. As a student leader, she'd spent too many hours escorting students, parents and other visitors around the campus. She was pleasantly surprised that the boy was so easy to talk with. And it seemed he truly wanted to know about her.

"I've been talking about myself for the last hour," she said. "What about you? What is your family like?"

Though the smile never left his lips, his expression grew serious. "I don't have a family," he told her. "I was raised by my grandfather until I turned 14, and I've been on my own since."

"I'm sorry," she responded.

"Don't be," he said. "It's not like I had a rough time growing up. Grandfather saw to my needs; he taught me what I needed to know to make my way."

The assassin's eyes had a distant look as he recalled the old man who raised him. Every strand of his white hair, every winkle etched in his face was committed to memory. Hiro could recount every one of the man's scars and the story of how he had earned them.

"When I was ready, he sent me out on my own," he continued. "It seems like he was right."

"So you supported yourself through high school?" his companion asked.

"I supported myself," he answered. "But I never went to high school."

"No?" Ayaka couldn't keep the amazement out of her voice. Most of the adults she came in contact with were college educated. Even the servants at the mansion had graduated high school.

"How are you going to get ahead without college?" she asked. "Certainly you're not going to spend the rest of your life serving coffee?"

"There's no shame in that," he replied. "Besides, I like not being tied down to one place."

"In the past four years, I've traveled all over Asia, to Australia, and to Europe," he said. "Just last week I was in the United States. I can't do that with an office job"

"But don't you miss not having a home to come back too?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I can't really say," Hiro answered. "Grandfather had a house, but I never thought of it as home."

"It seemed to be a place to leave things you couldn't take with you," he told her. "And Grandfather taught me that what you carry with you, is more important than what you leave behind."

Ayaka tried to understand his viewpoint, but it was like trying to understand a foreign language. Home and family meant security. Education was the key to advancing oneself and increasing your ability to provide. In contrast, Hiro seemed content to live day by day without concern about the future. She could easily picture him as a nomad, roaming the steppes of Mongolia with all his possessions tied to a yak.

"So what can you tell me about this bridge," Hiro asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"This is one of several that were built by the European architect Gyorgi Rakoci after the Meiji Restoration," she replied without thinking. "Rakoci drew the plans for several structures at Mahora, including the great library."

"Sorry about that," she replied slightly abashed. "I guess I've given this tour too many times."

"Hey, she's pretty good," the young man suddenly exclaimed.

Ayaka looked over to where he pointed and saw Zazie Rainyday performing before a group of elementary students. The acrobat was juggling several wooden pins. "She's supposed to be making decorations," the class rep murmured.

"Just a moment please," she said to Hiro and then walked over to the group. "What are you doing Zazie?"

Without looking away, her classmate caught the objects to the applause of the children. She pointed to the stacks of paper and buckets on the ground before her. Her audience set to work folding the paper into little cranes and placing them in the bucket. The class rep was surprised by the number already made. When they had made enough, Zazie picked up a set of wooden rings and tossed them high into the air. She gave Ayaka a wink and continued entertaining her workers.

"What was that all about?" Hiro asked.

"Just getting a lesson in production management," she answered.

* * *

Toru Watanabe, former boxer and businessman, sat at the table and waited. Today was visiting day at the prison, and he would be able to see his wife shortly. He tugged at the collar of the grey shirt he wore. In three years, this hadn't gotten any easier for either of them. Chakako was a far better woman than he deserved. She had gone back to work and raised their two children while he waited to be deemed rehabilitated.

For the hundredth time that morning, he cursed himself for trusting his former business partner. After retiring from boxing, he and Sumiyoshi had worked hard to build Tanaka-Watanabe into a company, one successful enough to attract the attention of that vulture Yukihiro. After three years of trying, that bastard found a way to legally buy the company out from underneath them. And there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it. He corrected himslef, there was one thing.

It was a Friday the thirteenth. The following Tuesday they would loose everything. "Unless we stop him," Sumiyoshi had said.

"How?" Toru had naively asked.

"When Zaibatsu leaves his office tonight," his partner told him, "I'll be waiting for him. All I'll need is your gun."

Toru put his head in his hands. "Why did I ever listen to him?" he thought. In the end, his partner had shot a body guard instead of the businessman. Sumiyoshi fled the country and Toru was convicted as an accessory to assault and attempted murder.

He heard the door open and looked up to see his wife enter the room. She sat down in the chair next to him. Although there wasn't a guard present, he knew they were being watched. She carried an envelope clutched in her hand but he ignored it as they chatted for awhile.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked.

"Did you authorize a withdrawal from our account?"

"No," he responded.

She pulled out a copy of a bank draft and set it before him. "Then how do you explain this?" It showed a one million yen debit dated July 16th.

* * *

It wasn't the best day of her life Ayaka thought as she walked back to the dormitories, but it was far better than she had expected. She recounted their day's adventures, horseback riding, rowing across the lake, and going to the amusement park. Hiro had even won her a prize at the shooting arcade. The intertwined hearts rested on a chain about her neck.

The class rep glanced down at her watch. If she hurried, she could check in on all of the sub-committees and still have time to change. After describing how beautiful the river was after dark, he had bought them tickets for that evening's trip. The boat left promptly at 8 pm and the fireworks started at 10.

Ayaka rounded the corner and nearly bumped into Chizuru. Her roommate was carrying two, heavy sacks. "Sorry," she said. "Need a hand with those?"

"Thanks," the girl replied as Ayaka took one of the bags. "We've been making the streamers all day and ran out of snacks."

The blonde-haired girl looked in the bag. "Milk?"

"And meatballs too," Chizuru said. "You'd be surprised how much Yuna can eat."

"Excuse me Miss," a voice said. Ayaka looked up to see a man in a black business suit and dark glasses addressing them. In fact, there were three such men boxing them in. "You are the granddaughter of Ichiro Okada aren't you?" he asked though it didn't sound like a question.

The man looked straight at Chizuru, who kept silent. "Please come with us," he told her.

"Like hell she will," Ayaka replied, stepping forward. She stopped when she noticed the small, black pistol in the speaker's hand. The girls were grabbed roughly by the other two men. At this point, her martial arts training kicked in. She tossed the grocery bag to the man with the gun, and stomped her heel down hard on the toes of the man holding her. As he released his grip, she pivoted to her left, and smashed her elbow into his mouth.

"That will teach you to lay hands on me," she thought. She felt something hard strike the back of her head and slumped to her knees in pain. Her eyes wouldn't focus, but she could hear the sound of a car door open, a struggle, and then the roar of an engine as it pulled away.

A moment latter, somebody bent down in front of her. She forced her eyes to focus and saw Rainyday's concerned face inches from her own. She put her hand behind her head and felt where she had been hit. It came back spotted with blood. Ayaka tried to speak as the darkness threatened to overwhelm her. "Call . . . help," is all she managed before she lost consciousness.

* * *

He seemed to have waited for hours in front of the dorm. It was a woman's prerogative to take as much time as she needed to get ready, however this was excessive. Hiro thought back to this morning and smiled. He knew he shouldn't mix pleasure with business, but it had been a blast.

The little, white-haired juggler walked out of the building. He had a bad feeling when she headed straight for him.

"It's Zazie isn't it?" he asked. She nodded her head once in reply.

"Is something wrong with Ayaka?"

Again she nodded. Wordlessly, the girl motioned for him to follow. A short time later, he was in the school infirmary, standing by Ayaka's bedside. Though dressed in a hospital gown, she still wore the locket he had won at the arcade.

"I feel like a complete idiot," she said, slurring her words. "I must have thought I was a super hero."

Hiro looked her over. She seemed okay but must have been doped up with medications. "What happened to your friend?"

"I got hit pretty hard, concussion the doctor said," she replied. "I couldn't see anything, but I think they forced her into a car and drove away."

"I don't know what to do," she said. Hiro watched as a tear slid down her face. "I feel so helpless."

He knew she wanted some sort of reassurance that everything would be alright. He tried, he really did, but both realized how empty his words were. As he left the clinic, all he could think was "It's not my problem."

He wasn't prepared to find Zazie waiting for him. The girl with the tattoos, who never spoke, unnerved him. "What do you want?"

The air around her darkened as if clouds had obscured the sun. He shivered from a sudden chill. Without uttering a sound, she motioned for him to accompany her. As they reached the dormitory, he stopped before the steps, but his guide beckoned him on. They passed several of the residents, but none indicated they noticed him.

They took the stairs to the sixth floor and entered the hall. As downstairs, no one seemed to be aware of his presence. Zazie stopped in front of a door. She knocked once and then entered the room. Hiro followed her inside. Three people sat around the dinning table. They looked up at the newcomers. The assassin recognized the boy and the red-haired girl, but not the dark-haired girl with the pony tail.

"Hiro?" Natsumi said. "What are you doing here?"

"He's here to help," Zazie replied. The young man couldn't decide if he was more shocked she spoke or that she volunteered his services.

The boy jumped up, an angry look in his eyes. "We don't need him," he cried. "He'd just be in the way."

The acrobat fixed her gaze on Kotaro, who fidgeted in response. The darkness about her intensified and she seemed to expand till she filled the room. The boy looked down, cowed. Hiro blinked and she seemed to be a normal girl again. Kotaro sat down and made no further objections.

"That's pretty generous of you," Hiro said to Zazie. "I don't remember making the offer."

Her face, framed by white locks, turned towards him. The corners of her mouth curled into a thin smile. He was amazed when she addressed him in French. _"I am a generous soul,"_ she said. _"But do you have a choice?"_

"_I sure as hell do,"_ he replied in French. _"Despite whatever Jedi mind tricks you're using."_

"_No tricks,"_ she said, but the smile grew more pronounced. _"You can leave as you wish, but know this; your life became intertwined with these girls the moment you set foot in Mahora."_

"I don't care for this mumbo-jumbo crap," he said, reverting to Japanese. He walked to the door and grabbed for the handle. He stopped as the image of a blonde-haired girl in a hospital bed sprang to mind. He shook his head as if trying to dislodge it, but it persistently remained. Slowly, his shoulders sagged under the weight of her gaze.

"Damn I'm getting sentimental," he thought as he silently admitted defeat.

* * *

Zazie led them to a warehouse. Though she didn't know it, they weren't far from the hotel Hiro was staying at. They found two, black limousines parked in an alley.

"Standard hoodlum issue," Hiro muttered as he pulled a small knife from his pocket. He knelt behind one of the cars and Zazie could hear the sound of escaping air.

"What are you doing?" Yuna whispered.

"Releasing my inner child," he replied.

Zazie watched as he scampered to the next tire. She could clearly see the doom that hovered around him like a grey-winged moth. Like hers, it could only end in death. Most people, like this man, were never aware of their dooms, or destinies as some preferred to call them. It rarely made any difference whether they did or not. Few could successfully defy destiny. And if they did, she would merely start her weavings over. Unlike mortals, she had all of eternity to finish her task.

After the tires were dealt with, the group gathered by a door. "What do we do now?" Yuna asked. "The door's locked."

"We could force it, but that would alert everyone inside," their reluctant helper noted.

Zazie saw a number of windows on upper floors, and a fire escape as well. She pointed them out to the rest. She had Kotaro stand in front of the building and then she cupped her hands in front of her. He nodded in understanding and laced his hands together. She took a running start and leapt. The hanyo caught her foot and propelled her into the air. She gracefully caught the rail and in one continuous motion pulled herself over it and onto the platform.

As she crouched down on the fire escape, she examined the window. It was locked, but that didn't stop her. She gathered her power and channeled it into her hand. Flesh transformed into fine scales and her nails grew into lethal talons. She ran a nail over the surface of the window. It scored the glass like a diamond tipped blade. She pushed and a circle of glass fell inwards.

She walked into a dark corridor. Again she channeled her power but this time to enhance her senses. Her eyes formed slits like a cat's. The ends of her forked tongue tasted the air about her. The hallway was clear, but people were below.

Cautiously, the silent girl of class 3A made her way down the stairs. A single guard stood by the door. The acrid smoke of his cigarette nearly made her retch. She quickly returned to her normal self. Voices of hungry shadows murmured in her ear. There was a price for their aid they reminded her.

Zazie rushed the guard. He dropped his cigarette as she executed a series of handsprings. By the time he had pulled his gun out, she stood in front of him. Her fist moved like a blur and connected solidly with his jaw. He slid to the floor unconscious.

A shadow detached itself from her and hovered over the guard. Vapor-like tendrils spread from the darkness that surrounded its bone-white face. They snaked their way through the man's mouth, ears, and nose. As the demon fed, bits and pieces of his memories slipped away, never to be recovered. When it finished, the guard would still be alive, but his mind would be wiped clean. Zazie turned from the sight. She had promised them payment for their help today, but she would take no joy in it.


	5. Enter Sandman

**A/N: Chapter 5 continues the group's adventure to find and return their kidnapped friend. For those of you who haven't read through the festival arc, the changes in Yuna might catch you by surprise. Hopefully, you'll still enjoy the story.**

**The chapter's title is from the Metallica song. I think the chorus, "exit light, enter night," fits the tone.**

**Now for the disclaimer. I don't own 'Negima', its settings or characters. If I did, it wouldn't be as popular as it is.**

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Yuna waited outside of the warehouse door for Zazie to return. She was beginning to have second thoughts about the wisdom of coming along. Back in the dorm room it had seemed so clear. These jerks had kidnapped one of her classmates and put another into the hospital.

This would be another great adventure, like the Mage Mars Battle. It finally dawned on her that these were dangerous men they were about to go up against. The basketball player rested her hands on the twin pistols holstered to her hips. Their presence calmed her somewhat.

She was issued the pistols during the big Mahorafest game. They had served her well in the battle with Chao's robots, and she managed to hang on to them after the festival ended. Unlike everybody else's weapon, they still worked. She had considered asking somebody in the Engineering Department why, but figured they'd be taken away if it was discovered they functioned.

Yuna watched Kotaro as the young boy paced back and forth. Nobody knew about Natsumi's little brother until he showed up one day. He was about Negi's age, but the two of them were night and day in temperament. One thing at least they had in common. Both were popular with the girls in the dorms. Of course, being the only boys around might have something to do with that.

Rumors were that Kotaro worshipped the ground Chizuru walked on. In return, the older girl showed a great deal of affection towards him. "Funny," Yuna thought. "No one calls her a shotacon."

The man named Hiro took out a cigarette and lit it. He took a drag and slowly exhaled. Yuna couldn't figure out why he was here. Natsumi said that he and Ayaka had met yesterday. And if she remembered correctly what Akira told her, he had only arrived in Mahora a day or two prior to that. It made no sense for him to be involved.

She wished she knew what Zazie had said to him back in the room. They both spoke to each other in the same language. It was possible that they had known each other beforehand. Nobody knew much about Zazie. She had said more today that Yuna could recall in the previous two years. Obviously there was more to her than any of them realized. Just like with her parents.

Basketball, family and friends had defined her world. This simple construct was rapidly eroding, but one constant remained. You had to stand by your family and friends, no matter what.

The door knob turned and all three people tensed in anticipation. Yuna reached for her pistols, while Hiro flicked the cigarette away. She relaxed when she saw the familiar white-haired figure who beckoned them in.

A dim light filtered in through the windows. A man lay upon the floor. Hiro bent over him to check his pulse, and then pulled back his eyelids. He picked up a pistol that lay nearby, checked it out, and pocketed it.

"Where to next?" he asked in a whisper.

Zazie pointed first to Yuna, then herself, and indicated a direction. She set off without waiting for a reply. Yuna loosened her guns and hurried to catch up. "Stand by your family and friends," she muttered under her breath as if reciting a mantra, "no matter what."

Zazie strode down the corridor without making any noise. Yuna tried to copy her, but every sound she made seemed to echo throughout the building. Every scrape of her shoes, every rustle of cloth, and every breath she took was magnified ten-fold in her ears.

A harsh light poured from an open doorway ahead. The dark-haired girl heard men conversing in the room beyond. The two classmates peeked around the corner into a large, holding area. Crates and boxes where stacked into orderly rows from floor to ceiling. Four men sat at a table, deeply absorbed in a game of cards.

The acrobat held her hand up, with the index finger pointing and the thumb up at a 90 degree angle. Yuna swallowed hard and nodded her head. She pulled the guns from their holster. Zazie gave her the thumbs up and then ran into the room.

The men erupted into a riot of shouting. Zazie turned and sped down one of the rows of crates. "What are you waiting for?" one of the men yelled. "After her."

Three men disappeared down the row in hot pursuit. Yuna watched as the unsuspecting thug walked around the table, looking at the other players' cards. "I can't do it," she thought. "Not like this."

She holstered her weapons and boldly stepped into the room. "Nothing but a cheater I see," she said loudly. The remaining man looked over at her, surprised by her sudden appearance.

Yuna tried to recall the various westerns she had watched through the years. "I'll count to three," she said. "Then we draw and fire."

She tried to strike an intimidating pose, but the man began to chuckle. Her face became a mask of grim determination. "Laugh at me and I'll shoot you where you stand," she threatened.

Her hands where poised, ready to draw. "One," she called. The man stopped laughing. "Two."

Before she could get to three, Yuna heard, "Hold it girlie." One of the other hoods had returned. His gun was aimed at the student.

"Unbuckle your belt," he instructed her," and let it drop to the floor."

The girl moved to comply. Yuna started to unbuckle when she noticed something odd. The armed man started moving in slow motion. The same thing had happened during the festival battle, but she had been too caught up in the moment to pay it much attention.

As her belt started sliding down, she snatched the pistols out and threw herself to the right. She heard the explosion as he fired, but it sounded long and drawn out. She returned fire as his bullet sailed far above her. A bolt of energy struck him in the chest and the impact threw him backwards into several boxes.

Yuna turned her gaze on the other man. He was drawing his weapon as she aimed and fired another round. The force spun him around. He landed on the table, rolled off and lay still.

The basketball player turned gunslinger picked herself off the floor. "I did it," she thought and then began to tremble. She busied herself with securing her belt and set off after her partner. She didn't notice the two, dark shapes that hovered over the fallen men.

* * *

Zazie ran swiftly between the rows of crates, leading her pursuers on a merry chase. She let them slowly approach her as if they were gaining ground on a fatigued girl. She hoped Yuna had taken out the lone kidnapper. With a start, she realized that only two of the men were following her now. She had to end this quickly.

She saw a tall column of crates ahead. She slowed enough so that the men came within arm's reach, and then accelerated. Her right foot struck the face of the crate and then her left as her momentum carried her upwards. The pursuers skidded to a halt and watched dumbstruck as she raced up the side of the column, seemingly defying the law of gravity. Before the acrobat reached the apex, she somersaulted in mid-air and fell back towards the ground.

Too amazed to move, the men stood rooted to the spot as her feet slammed into them. As they crumpled to the ground, she flipped backwards, nailing her landing more surely than any gymnast. Two shadows detached themselves and began to feed on the unconscious hoodlums.

Zazie heard the sound of gunfire back from where she came. Thinking of nothing else, she raced back to find Yuna. If anything had happened to her classmate, she'd never forgive herself.

* * *

Both boys watched as Zazie and Yuna disappeared down the corridor. Hiro looked at the younger boy. Kotaro had his arms folded across his chest and wore a scowl that could have curdled milk.

"Just so you know," the youngster said, "I don't need your help."

The assassin stared back into the boy's dark brown eyes. "Just so you know," he replied, "I don't give a damn."

They walked down a hallway lined with offices, checking the rooms as they passed. The young boy's sharp sense of smell detected another man before they rounded a corner. He held his arm out, blocking Hiro. He gestured that somebody was on the other side. Hiro looked ready to ask him something, but Kotaro motioned him for silence.

He lay down on the floor and peered around the corner. When he finished looking, he held up a single finger. They stepped back a few meters. "There's one guard in front of a door, about 5 meters away," the hanyo whispered. "I can take him."

Hiro pulled the gun from his coat pocket. "So can I."

"I won't make as much noise," the boy replied. "You distract his attention and I'll do the rest."

The older boy looked dubious. "What's the matter?" Kotaro asked. "Don't trust me?"

"Doesn't merit an answer," Hiro muttered as he reached for a cigarette. He placed his gun hand in the coat pocket. "Go," he said as he stepped around the corner.

"Hey asshole," he called to the startled guard. "Got a light?"

A look of confusion crossed the man's face. Kotaro seemed to materialize next to him. "No one moves that fast," Hiro thought as he watched the boy strike the guard twice in the stomach. The man doubled over and the elementary student followed with a left hook that knocked his opponent out cold.

"What the hell is going on?" the assassin wondered as he approached the door. He jumped as a gunshot echoed through the warehouse.

* * *

This Mahora place was really beginning to get on Koichi's nerves. The gangster paced back and forth trying to figure out what was wrong. It didn't seem anything he could put his finger on, just a strange vibe about the place. He'd be happy when they got the word to proceed.

The girl sat on the stool like she was told. At least she showed some sense, unlike that blonde bimbo he'd had to take care of. This one was also nice to look at he thought as he admired her ample bust. Just the way he liked them.

Chizuru felt his eyes on her. She received a lot of this attention, ever since she turned eleven and started to develop. She should be used to it by now. "Why did you kidnap me?" she asked.

"Shut up,' Koichi replied.

"Do you expect a ransom," she continued. "You're sadly mistaken."

"Put a cork in it."

"Grandfather disowned my mother when she married against his wishes."

He aimed his gun at her. "I said shut your trap!"

The girl bit her tongue and kept silent.

"Man, this place has me spooked if she can set me off like that," he thought.

He lowered the gun. "You don't expect me to believe that load of crap do you?"

"Why not?" she responded. "Grandfather was so displeased when Mother married her bodyguard, he's never had anything to do with us since."

"Then who's forking out the money for this school?" he countered. "No way can your old man afford this place."

"He can't," she admitted. "I'm here on an academic scholarship funded by the Yukihiro Foundation. It pays full tuition as long as my grades are in the top 15 percent for my class."

The man stared at her. Like a daimyo of old, Ichiro Okada was known for demanding total obedience from his people. It was entirely possible she could be telling the truth. But then again ….

"You better hope you're wrong," he told her. "and your grandfather cares enough about you to see reason."

"What happens if he doesn't?" she asked. "Are you going to kill me?"

"If you're lucky," he replied. He looked approvingly at her curvy figure again. "More likely they'll sell you to a Thai brothel."

The sound of a gunshot filled the air. "Shit!" Koichi exclaimed. "What's going on?"

He looked to the big man who stood by the door. "Juuko!" he called. "Find out what's happening."

The man nodded and left the room. A scant moment later, the door opened and a young man, holding a pistol entered the room. Chizuru recognized Hiro. The two men faced each other with guns drawn.

"Who the hell are you?" Koichi demanded.

The young man grinned in response. "Just an errand boy," he answered. "I'm here to retrieve something you took earlier today."

"Give it up kid," the thug told him. "I've got men all over this place. You're outnumbered."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," he replied impudently.

"Kid's pretty cocky," Koichi thought. "Could he be right?"

"You're bluffing," the older man said flatly.

"I hate standoffs," Hiro replied. "Guess the only thing to do is change the equation."

The sound of wood striking the concrete floor reverberated through the room. Sparing a quick glance out of the side of this eye, Koichi saw the stool on the ground. There was no sign of the girl. The door slammed. The kid had slipped out and the hoodlum realized he been played for the fool.

From their hiding spot, Kotaro and Chizuru watched the last kidnapper rush out of the room. The boy removed his hand from the girl's mouth. "We need to get you out of here."

"But what about Hiro?" she asked.

"He's buying us time," Kotaro replied. "Don't worry. He can take care of himself."

* * *

Koichi ran through the building. He passed by three of his men on the way and found two more gathered around the table where they had been playing cards. None of them responded to his words or blows. It was as if they were all drugged. He heard the distinct sound of the hammer of a gun being cocked, and then "Release the clip and toss the gun away!"

He let the magazine drop to the floor and threw the gun on the table. "Step away and turn around." He did as he was instructed. Hiro stepped from between the rows of crates.

"What did you do to my men?"

"The question ought to be what will I do with you?"

The assassin had pondered this while he ran back here. He should just shoot the man and have done with it, but the image of Ayaka wouldn't let him. He removed the magazine and threw it to one side and the pistol to the other. "How about we decide this man to man?"

The gangster nodded his head in agreement. "I admire your guts kid," he said. "But you haven't a lick of sense."

Koichi removed his jacket, tie and shirt, casting each off to the side. Several black rings had been tattooed on his biceps. He walked to the center of the room and waited. He dropped into his stance when the boy approached. They circled each other slowly, as a pack of wolves would their prey, looking for an opportunity.

The gangster lunged forward and swung his fist. Hiro blocked it and the kick that followed, but Koichi countered with another kick that caught the boy on the side of the face. The force spun him around.

"I hope that girl is worth the pain," the hoodlum said.

"I hope you only loose another finger tip," Hiro shot back.

The men closed in, exchanging kicks and punches. Their fight, had it been in a movie script, would have wound up on the cutting room floor. Unlike highly choreographed scenes, there was nothing artistic about it. Two men went after one another, trying to inflict the maximum amount of damage.

Hiro felt his lip split under the man's fist and tasted his own blood. He blocked the next punch and connected with one of his own that staggered his opponent. A kick to the man's stomach sent him to his knees. The assassin charged in but saw Koichi remove something from his pant leg.

The boy back peddled but not before the other man slashed at him. The knife blade caught him on the cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood in its wake. Hiro tore off his coat and held it before him. His opponent lunged with the knife but had to pull back as the jacket snapped in front of his face.

The man dove forward once more and the boy side stepped him. He brought his jacket up and snared his opponent's arm. Quickly, Hiro smashed the arm against his knee. The knife clattered to the floor. He followed up by slamming his elbow into the hood's face.

Koichi stood panting. His nose was broken and blood ran down his chin. His body ached from head to toe, but Hiro was in no better shape.

"Got to end this now," the assassin thought as he lashed out with his left foot. The thug caught it, but before he could react further, Hiro arched his back and brought his right foot up.

Koichi felt his jaw break from the impact. He fell to the floor and lay there, slowly slipping into unconsciousness.

* * *

They gathered in Hiro's hotel room. They were all appalled by his appearance, but silently agreed not to mention it. Yuna offered to let Chizuru stay at her father's place for the next few days and left to make the arrangements. Hiro cleaned himself up and changed into fresh clothes. He left to visit the infirmary, accompanied by Zazie.

"Kotaro," Chizuru called from the bathroom. "Are there any clean towels out there?"

"Just a moment," he replied, looking around the room. He went over to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. It was filled with socks and underwear. He shoved it closed and checked the second, but it held shirts. He opened the bottom drawer and froze. Slowly, he removed an 8 by 10 photo and held it up. It was Ayaka Yukihiro's school picture.

* * *

Hiro walked into her room in the infirmary. His face was so bruised and bloodied that Ayaka wondered if he had been admitted. "What happened to you?" she asked as she noticed the stitches across his cheek.

"If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy," he answered. He smiled even though the split lip caused him pain.

"Your friend is safe and sound," he told her. As the nurse pushed a wheel chair into the room, he continued, "She's lucky to have friends like you."

The girl's eyes arched questioningly. She started to speak, but Hiro raised an index finger to his lips. "It's a surprise," he told her.

Gently, they transferred her to the chair and wheeled her to the top floor of the building. At this height, the window overlooked the surrounding rooftops. He pulled a chair next to her and sat down. They said nothing as they waited.

A brilliant flare soared high into the air and burst into a multi-colored blossom. Wordlessly, she watched the fireworks through the window. Cautiously, her hand moved until it rested on top of his. In response, Hiro turned his hand over and laced their fingers together. Ayaka's heart was beating in her throat as she laid her head upon his shoulder. He gave her hand a quick squeeze. The nurse found them in this position 30 minutes after the end of the show.


	6. Lying From You

**A/N: The story begins to draw to its conclusion and Kotaro finally gets his wish, though not in the way he intended. And Natsumi finally gets some time in the spotlight. Two points to those who identified the Linkin Park song as the source for the chapter title. **

**As always I don't own Negima or any of its characters. However, Hiro is my own creation.**

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**Lying From You**

It was a little girl's room the teddy bear and neko-shaped clock proclaimed, a place to find comfort, warmth and security. But the middle-school student thrashing on the bed gave the lie to that façade. The monsters from the closet were working overtime bedeviling Chizuru Naba's sleep. The sheets twisted tighter about her body as she tossed and turned. A low moan escaped from her mouth as she relived that day in the park nearly four years ago.

Like any other day, the elementary student waited for her mother to pick her up after school. Chizuru didn't know at the time that her mother was seated in a hospital while doctors worked feverishly to save the girl's father. Nor did she know that her hastily phoned aunt would be stuck for another hour behind a jack-knifed tractor-trailer. All she was aware of was being alone.

Alone, that is, until the pack of boys from the middle school showed up. The group encircled her. A boy darted in and shoved her across to one of his friends. Back and forth she was pushed between them despite her pleas. When she had managed to break free of the ring, they chased her about the park like hounds in pursuit. No matter which direction she went, Chizuru couldn't escape their gleaming eyes, couldn't outrun their mocking laughter.

Exhausted, she fell to her knees and gulped in great breaths of air. Helplessly, she watched as they closed in, ready to continue their cruel sport, but they were no longer boys. Instead, armed men wearing black suits advanced on her.

"You better hope your grandfather cares about you," they laughed.

"No, stop," she begged, but still they closed in. "No!"

When her screams stopped ringing in her ears, Chizuru could hear another voice speaking. "It's okay Chizuru," the voice said. "You're safe."

She felt a pair of arms enfold her and pull her close. Like a drowning person, she fiercely hugged her would be rescuer back. Hardly daring to breath, the brown-haired girl opened her eyes. She lay within Yuna's embrace, her head cradled against the other girl's chest. Her classmate gently rocked them back and forth. "It's okay," Yuna crooned in her ear. "You're safe now."

"I'm sorry for being such a bother," Chizuru told her. "You must really think I'm awful."

"You're no bother at all," the dark-haired girl insisted, still holding her tightly. "A friend can never be a bother."

As a daycare volunteer, Chizuru was used to being the one providing the comfort. The role reversal struck her as odd, but she was grateful for her classmate's presence. "I haven't had nightmares since shortly after moving into the dorm," she remarked.

"I'd be more surprised if you didn't have them," Yuna responded. "To tell the truth, I'm still scared too."

Chizuru savored the feeling of being cared for. During her initial three months in the middle school dorm, she had woken Ayaka up countless times with her nightmares. When that happened, the class rep had held and soothed her much like this. Never once did the older girl complain. Strange how the nightmares ended when Natsumi moved in.

Maybe it wasn't so strange she reflected. With the three of them in one room, even night time was far from quiet. The room was filled with the reassuring rustling of sheets, a cough, or even Ayaka mumbling about their home room teacher in her sleep. The noise increased when Kotaro joined their little sorority. She was amazed at the number of times that boy got up to use the bathroom each night.

Chizuru gently pulled back from her classmate. "Would it be alright if we stayed in the same room?" she asked. "It might help me to sleep better."

* * *

Natsumi padded softly across the floor from the bath to the bedroom the three girls shared. A dark blue towel was wrapped around her damp hair and a pink nightshirt clung to her freshly scrubbed skin.

The redhead was still confused over the previous day's events. A group of men, for unknown reasons, kidnapped one of her roommates and put another in the hospital. Instead of calling the police, four of her friends mounted a rescue operation. And though they should have been captured or worse, Kotaro came waltzing in last night saying everyone was safe and sound. The whole time, Natsumi stayed in the room and fretted.

Weird things always seemed to happen at Mahora she reflected. Ten-year-old teachers, boys who change into dogs and armies of marauding robots were a part of the norm. Unfortunately, it all seemed designed to point out how insignificant in the grand scheme of things she was.

The irony hit her like a punch to the solar-plexus. She was the actress who craved the spotlight; who lived for the moment when all eyes were upon her. Yet in reality, she went through life unnoticed.

"Yes sir, I'm a 10 watt bulb in the chandelier of life," she thought bitterly, "dim and useless."

Natsumi pushed open the bedroom door and stopped. Kotaro had his back towards her as he stood in front of a dresser. He wore the pajamas that she had altered for him. His black and white tail swished back and forth.

"Such a cute tail too," she mused and then cringed in embarrassment at the thought.

She quickly put on her cheery face. "Good morning Kotaro."

Surprised, the boy spun around. He held an armload of Chizuru's lingerie tightly clutched to his chest. His face turned red as he stammered, "Natsumi, I uh, that is to say …."

Her eyes widened and she wondered if Kotaro could be the dorm's mysterious panty thief. "No," she thought to herself, "the thefts started more than a month before he arrived." That still didn't explain what he was doing with Chizuru's underwear. Suddenly she recalled rubbing one of the boy's shirts against the side of her face. He must have seen the unspoken thought on her face.

"Chizuru will need some clothes at Yuna's place," he hastily explained. "I thought I would bring them over this morning."

The freckled girl resumed breathing at his words. "Well, let me help you," she said as she walked over. "How long is she going to stay with Yuna?"

"I'm not sure," he replied. "Until we're sure those goons won't try again."

"Let's say one week to start with," she suggested. Natsumi examined the clothes Kotaro had already pulled out. "Chizuru has more than black clothes."

The boy, dressed in his black gakuran, looked slightly offended. "What's wrong with black?"

"Nothing," she responded. "But Chizuru looks good in pink too."

"Aw, pink is for sissies."

A short while later, Kotaro walked out of the dormitory carrying a sack of clothing. He saw Mana standing near the street. The tall, exotic sharpshooter had a rifle bag slung over her shoulder. A duffle bag rested near her feet.

The boy was going to call out her name when Mr. Takahata drove up in his convertible. The teacher opened the trunk and helped his former student stow her things, and then held the door open while she seated herself. As the sports car pulled away from the curb, Kotaro was glad Asuna wasn't here to see this. "She'd blow a gasket for sure," he thought as the car drove out of sight.

* * *

Ayaka checked herself in the mirror for the hundredth time. She had been released from the school infirmary two days ago, and Hiro was taking her out that evening. She didn't consider this a date, but the class rep wanted to look her best.

The blonde girl gazed at her reflection with a critical eye, searching for the slightest imperfection. She placed a mental checkmark next to each item in her list: hair, makeup, nails, and dress. Satisfied with the results, she turned away.

Ayaka hadn't worn the white dress since the day Negi came to visit at her home. The seamstress had mended the damage caused during her scuffle with Asuna. It seemed ages ago.

Thinking about her teacher brought a sharp pang. She should be with him she thought. "No," she reminded herself firmly. "He's with who he wants to be."

An image of the young boy and his companions sprang to mind. They were laughing and having a great time. She imagined Asuna turning towards her. The girl tugged the skin below her eye down and stuck her tongue out at Ayaka. "Arrrg!" The class rep ground her teeth in frustration. "Even 10,000 kilometers away she can mess up my day."

"Calmly," Ayaka told herself as she took several deep breaths. "No one is going to ruin tonight." She picked up her shoes and walked out of the bedroom.

Natsumi and her little brother sat at the table, playing a game of Monster Rumble. Each intently studied the cards in their hands.

"Ha, my Sunburst Dragon destroys your Lion Girl Warrior," the boy chortled gleefully. "And you take 600 points of damage to boot."

The little actress' brow furrowed in concentration. "Not so fast Kotaro, I play Curse of Pentacle," she replied, placing a card face up on the table. "Your attack does no damage."

Natsumi looked up at her roommate. "Wow prez!" she exclaimed. "You look great."

"What are you all decked out for?" Kotaro asked.

"Hiro and I are going on the river boat tonight," she answered.

"But your face is all painted," he said. "What are you supposed to be, a Christmas tree?"

The blonde-haired girl reached a hand out for him. Kotaro braced for a slap or to have her try and pull his lips back to his ears. Instead, she ruffled his hair and walked on. "Don't wait up for me," she called as she left.

Kotaro sat with an expression of utter bafflement on his face. "That isn't natural," he said. He jumped up from his chair and headed towards the door.

Quicker than a shundo, Natsumi stood before him, her hand pushing against his chest. "Where do you think you're going," she demanded.

"Something's wrong with Ayaka," he protested. "I'm going to follow her and make sure that guy doesn't try anything."

"No you're not," the red-headed girl told him. The boy could have sworn he saw flashes of lightning in her eyes. "You're going to sit down and get trounced at Monster Rumble."

Her voice was soft, but her tone left no room for argument. Confused by both girls' sudden change in behavior, he returned to his chair.

"That's better," she replied smiling. "Your dragon is going down."

* * *

People jostled one another on the tightly-packed deck of the river boat 'Koi.' It chugged serenely down the river, treating the crowd to a picturesque view of the city. Behind the wheel house, the deck was clear save for one couple.

Though isolated from the other passengers, they stood close together. As the light from the Summer sun faded into twilight, a chill from the water crept over the blonde-haired girl. Her companion placed his coat around her shoulders in response to her shiver.

"I even had his portrait painted on the side of my private jet," Ayaka admitted guiltily.

"So tell me more about your teacher," Hiro said.

"Why do you want to hear me talk about somebody else?"

"Because your face lights up when you do," he answered. "I kind of like the way you look then."

Suddenly too self-conscious to speak, the girl stared at the passing scenery. "He must be very special," she heard him say. In the last, lingering bit of daylight, Ayaka looked into the young man's brown eyes. Hesitantly, she raised a hand to his cheek and lightly traced his scar with her fingertip. She felt the bumps of the stitches. Her throat felt constricted as she said, "I think you're special too."

It was his turn to look away. The two remained silent in the deepening gloom, each lost in their own thoughts.

Ayaka still felt every bit as devoted to her little, homeroom teacher. Negi was still cute, kind, cuddly, well-manner and … and not with her. While Hiro was with her now, she had no idea where he would be next week. By his own admission, he was a rootless wanderer. There was nothing wrong with that lifestyle; she just aspired to something different. The class rep was also enough of a realist to know how unlikely she'd be to change him.

The fireworks started promptly at 10. He placed his arm around her shoulders. The girl snuggled closer, glad for the additional warmth. Feeling his gaze upon her, Ayaka turned to face him and gasped. Peering into his eyes in the half-light, she sensed a struggle going on within him. Hardly daring to breathe, she watched in rapt fascination, waiting for the outcome.

One minute, Ayaka was viewing a clash of elemental forces, the next she was in his arms. Her lips were pressed firmly against his. She could never recall who initiated what, but it didn't matter. Negi, Asuna and aspirations didn't matter either in the wake of her first kiss. Only the sensations coursing through her, like a flame rushing through her veins, mattered at that moment.

They slowly parted. Hiro seemed on the verge of speaking when she placed her fingers against his lips. "You weren't going to ruin this by saying something stupid like I'm sorry?" she asked.

* * *

Their arms entwined about each other as they kissed. His tongue gently probed and she parted her lips in response, accepting him without hesitation. He pulled her blonde hair back, exposing her neck. He started just below her ear, kissing her all the way to base of her collar. She took his hand and placed it against her breast. She moaned as he gently squeezed it.

Hiro opened his eyes and stared up at the inky blackness that covered the ceiling of his room. He had this dream every night since their first kiss. His response had been the same each time.

His clothes lay in a pile on the bathroom floor as he stepped into the shower. He turned the tap on and tensed as the cold water sprayed over him. Hiro could curse in four languages and used each one as the water ran down his neck and shoulders.

Ayaka's enthusiasm on their first kiss had surprised him. While she hadn't matched it since, it wasn't that she was reluctant to try. The problem was that Hiro wanted more from her. Maybe more than she was prepared to give and certainly more than he had a right to expect. Then there was that other matter.

He had been hired to do a job, not find a girlfriend. In four years, the assassin had never failed to fulfill a contract. Of course, all of the others could be lumped under the scum of the earth category and forgotten. Not this time.

He knew that from the beginning when he saw her picture. He knew it when he apologized for embarrassing her and she apologized back. He knew it when he decided that shooting the man who put her in the hospital wouldn't satisfy him. And he knew it now, taking a cold shower after dreaming about her. But what could he do about it?

That white-haired girl, the one who gave him the creeps, had said his life was intertwined with Ayaka and the others. First, he needed to sever that connection. Then he'd have to consider how to go about completing the job. Of course, he'd also like to be able to walk away from this mess in one piece.

"That's a pretty tall order," he thought as he turned the water off. "Even for me."

* * *

It was the last day of preparation. The area around the World Tree Stage was a beehive of activity as the final touches for the Star Festival were completed. Natsumi climbed a ladder, pulling a paper streamer along. As she stepped on the next rung, it wobbled beneath her.

"Kotaro," she called, "can you keep the ladder steady for me?"

The dark-haired boy appeared at the base. He held on tightly as Natsumi secured the last streamer to the overhead wire. She marveled at how strong the 10-year-old was. No, Kotaro wasn't like other boys she thought. Seeing him naked on the floor of her dormitory room had proved that. Normal boys didn't have pointed ears. Nor did they have tails hanging from their …. "Urm," she uttered as her cheeks started to flush.

"Why is your face all red?" the boy asked as she climbed down from the ladder. "You're not getting too much sun are you?"

Before she could answer, Ayaka's voiced floated over the noise about them. Natsumi noticed that Hiro was next to her, carrying an armload of water bottles. The thirsty workers happily took a bottle and gulped the contents down.

The freckled student smiled as she watched them weave among then groups. "They make a cute couple don't they?"

Kotaro made an indistinct reply. It sounded to her like a growl. Surprised, she looked over at her supposed younger brother. His face was impassive but he stared intently at their roommate's companion. "What's up with him?" she wondered.

They finished by late afternoon. The area was nearly deserted. Natsumi waited for the class rep to wrap up a few, last minute details so they could walk back to the dorm. Kotaro stood next to her. She sensed he was still upset by something.

As they walked over, Ayaka and Hiro were conversing. "So what are your plans after the festival?" the blonde-haired girl asked.

"I hadn't given it much thought," the young man replied. "Why?"

"My family owns an island resort," she answered. "How would you like to spend a few days as my guest?"

Natsumi's mouth hung open in disbelief. Meanwhile Kotaro's thin layer of restraint shattered. "Idiot Ayaka!" he cried. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"What are you yammering about?" she yelled back.

Natsumi watched as the young boy confronted Hiro. "Why do you have Ayaka's school photo in your room?" he demanded. "Why do you have her address and stuff?"

"What are you?" he asked as his hands grabbed hold of the assassin's coat. "Are you some kind of stalker?"

Hiro shoved the boy away. "Get your paws off me," he said as Kotaro fell on his seat.

The hanyo got his feet under him. His eyes blazed with anger. He snarled once, then lunged forward. "No!" both girls screamed.

Natsumi knew Kotaro could fight, but she'd never seen anything like this. The boy moved so swiftly, he seemed only a blur. Watching Hiro being knocked around, she was reminded of a piece of paper being blown helplessly in a whirlwind. She saw a streak of black and the man sailed through the air, landing on his back.

Kotaro stood over his prostrate opponent, fists still tightly clenched. "Get up!" he shouted. "Get up so I can knock you down again!"

"Kotaro!" Natsumi screamed. "Stop it!"

As the boy glanced back over his shoulder, Hiro brought his foot up in a vicious kick to Kotaro's groin. Flashes of light filled the boy's eyes as the youngster fell to his knees in agony. Quickly, the assassin grabbed Kotaro by the sides of the head and smashed his forehead into the boy's. The elementary student fell to ground and groaned.

The red-haired girl was by her friend's side instantly. She hastily looked him over for injuries. "I need Ako," she thought as he groaned again.

"You don't need to help me," she heard Hiro tell Ayaka. "I'm okay."

Natsumi saw the man get shakily to his feet. Her classmate hovered around him, wanting to help. His hand felt along his rib cage. "Damn, I think that last kick broke a couple," he remarked. He coughed and winced in pain. Ayaka moved towards him but he again waved her off.

"The kid was right you know," he said. "I was trying to use you."

"What?"

"Huh?"

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. After taking a couple of puffs, he continued. "Your dad's pretty well off isn't he?" Hiro kept his tone light-hearted. "I figured I could sweep you off your feet and be set for life. At the worst, he'd pay me to leave you alone."

Natsumi watched her friend's expression run the gamut from shock, to humiliation, to outrage, and finally anger. Ayaka swung with a left hook that caught the man on the cheek, just below his recent scar. "Bastard!" she cried out.

Hiro fell to the ground again, landing on hands and knees. His cut had opened and blood trickled down the side of his face. Ayaka grabbed the necklace and pulled. The clasp snapped and she flung it to the ground.

She turned on her heel and walked over to Natsumi and Kotaro. "Let's get out of here," she said as she helped lift Kotaro up and carry him away.

Hiro didn't watch them as they left. His attention was focused on a pair of intertwined hearts and a broken chain.


	7. Where Do We Go From Here

**A/N: The final chapter is here. The chapter title is inspired by the Live song. A big thank you to Eternal-Longing and the other reviewers. Your support is greatly appreciated. Last chapter I neglected to thank DragonKnightSevus for his help with designing the Monster Rumble cards as well as being a captive audience/reviewer. My thanks again Sevus.**

**Now for the standard disclaimer rot: I don't own Negima or its characters, but Hiro is my creation.**

* * *

**Where Do We Go From Here**

Flight 741, originating in Tokyo, landed safely and taxied to the terminal. Restless passengers on the jumbo jet unbuckled and began to gather their belongings prior to the flight attendant's announcement. Sumiyoshi Tanaka, looking like any of the other businessmen, stood up and retrieved his bag from the overhead bin. Manila was just the first stop on his journey.

Waiting in line with his fellows, he silently groused. Sumiyoshi had given the assassin until the 17th to complete the contract, but he had expected the job to be finished after a few days. "How long can a school girl take?" he thought sourly. "So much for being highly recommended."

Still, he was confident of success. He smiled in anticipation of his revenge upon Zaibatsu Yukihiro. The past four years will have all been worth it when that bastard's daughter was taken care of. "That rich son-of-a-bitch will understand losing what you cherish most."

Like a safety valve turning, the hatch opened and passengers surged up the boarding ramp as rapidly as steam escaping from a pipe. As he entered the lobby, Sumiyoshi nervously patted his breast pocket for the passport. According to the forged document, his name was Gozaburo Sato. Reassured it was in place, he went in search of the flight information board.

The fugitive quickly found his flight to Sydney, but was disappointed by the words '2 hour delay' flashing where the departure time should be. "Damn!" he heard someone near him swear. "A 2 hour delay?"

The man turned to find the speaker was a rather attractive, young lady. She was dressed in a dark blue jacket and skirt. The jacket hung open to reveal a plain, white top that, in his opinion, was generously filled. Her long, black hair had two braids that hung in front of her chest while the remainder cascaded down her back. Sumiyoshi was pleased to note that the stocking clad legs where just as shapely as the rest of her. He guessed the woman to be in her early twenties.

"Are you going to Sydney too?" he asked.

"Not at this rate," she answered, her mouth curving into a wry smile. "Maybe I can find another flight." Though her Japanese was flawless, her dark complexion pointed to mixed ancestry.

"I'm afraid this is the last flight today," he told her. "Since we're in the same situation, perhaps you'll allow me to buy you a drink."

The young lady looked at him in what he thought was an appraising manner. "I don't believe we've been introduced."

"Please forgive my lack of manners," the man responded. "My name is Gozaburo Sato."

"Mana Tatsumiya," she replied. "Very well Mr. Sato, I accept your offer."

They found a table near the back of the bar. The waitress, wearing a skimpy uniform came by for their order and Sumiyoshi asked for a gin and tonic.

"Sex on the beach," his companion said. As the waitress walked away, she confided," I don't know what's in it, but I find the name intriguing."

While the two continued polite conversation, Sumiyoshi began to wonder if the woman was just as interested as he was. The dark-haired beauty didn't say anything outright, but her comments suggested a lot. If so, he could certainly tarry a few days in Sydney. As the man imagined how such a few days would be spent, he was interrupted by another's voice, "Mr. Tanaka."

The voice belonged to a tall, blonde-haired man. He was dressed in a rumpled, white suit and wore glasses. "I need to speak with you Mr. Tanaka," the stranger said.

Casually, Sumiyoshi took a sip from the glass. "I'm afraid you're mistaken," he calmly replied. "My name is Sato."

"Your name is Sumiyoshi Tanaka," the newcomer responded. "And you're wanted in Japan for assault with a deadly weapon and attempted murder."

The man in the suit pulled a chair close and sat down. "I'm Mr. Takahata," he introduced himself. "I'm from Mahora."

To stunned to think clearly, Sumiyoshi heard an ominous click. He turned and found himself staring down the barrel of a 9mm pistol. Quite different from her earlier smiles, Mana had a cold and calculating expression on her face. "Let's not cause a scene Mr. Tanaka," she said. "And for your information, Ayaka Yukihiro is a friend of mine."

"You don't really want to do this in a crowded bar?" the fugitive asked. Glancing about, he realized they were alone. His stomach felt like it had dropped several stories as he noted even the bartender and waitress had deserted their posts. "What do you want?"

Mr. Takahata grinned back, as if sharing in a joke with the man. "I need you to answer a few questions."

* * *

Kotaro tore through the deserted streets of Mahora. Being the final day of the Star Festival, everybody was attending one of the ending celebrations. Celebrations would have to wait a little longer he thought as he raced towards a certain hotel. For now, he was on a mission. 

Scarcely thirty minutes ago he had been summoned to the headmaster's office. "Sit," the old man had said without the usual exchange of pleasantries. The dean spoke in a tone that instantly put the hanyo on guard. "I have something of the utmost importance to discuss with you."

"If this is about my school work," the boy started to say.

"This has nothing to do with you," the man interrupted. "We have information that a student's life is in danger."

Kotaro sat up straight. "What? Who?"

"A former business rival of her father has put a contract out on Ayaka Yukihiro," Konoemon told him. "Even now a hired killer is among the crowds attending the festival."

The boy's expression grew thoughtful. "A hired killer you say?"

"Yes," the headmaster answered as he examined the student closely. "Is something wrong?"

Kotaro shook his head. "It's nothing," he answered. "What do you need me to do?"

"Miss Yukihiro departs tomorrow morning for Wales," the dean said. "I want you to watch over her until she is safely out of the country."

"Since you room with her," the old man continued, "you are a position to notice anything suspicious."

"Suspicious, right," Kotaro thought as he reached the hotel. While searching for the front desk, he glanced about the place. "More like a dump that a hotel."

He found the manager, elbows propped on a counter, absorbed with a crossword puzzle. "I need information," Kotaro said.

"I got rooms," the man replied. "You need information, go to the library."

"What's a four letter word that means pull?" the manager suddenly asked.

"Jerk," the boy replied. As the man looked up, an offended expression on his face, the brown-haired boy explained, "Jerk is a four letter word meaning pull."

The man gazed down at the paper, shrugged his shoulders and penciled the word in.

"I need to find Hiro Sasuki."

"Not here," the manager responded. "He checked out this morning."

Silently, the boy cursed. "Can I see his room?"

"This isn't a museum."

Kotaro resisted the urge to grab the man's throat and throttle him on the spot. "How much to see his room?"

The mention of money got the other's attention. "Rooms cost 4500 a night."

Since he wasn't in the habit of carrying that much money around, the hanyo thought it over for a moment. "Do you rent by the hour?"

After paying for half an hour, Kotaro turned the key and pushed the door open. He quickly scanned the room and then headed straight to the dresser. Opening the bottom drawer, he found Ayaka's picture where he had last seen it. Carefully, the boy picked it up and examined it. His blood ran cold as he noted a perfect, round hole in the middle of the girl's forehead. The hole had been circled with a black marker and written below it were the words 'At 500 meters.'

* * *

The world tree stage was jammed to capacity for the festival's closing ceremony, while a larger crowd milled just outside. Anticipation ran high as they waited for the end of the official events, then the real party would begin. 

Yuna and her recently returned friends walked around the fringes of the crowd, trying to catch up on all of the news. She was dying to tell them all about the rescue, but had promised Chizuru she wouldn't talk about it. And too, that would mean mentioning Hiro, something the basketball player didn't want to do.

He seemed like such a nice guy, and then turned out to be a fortune hunter. Sometimes Yuna envied the president for her family's money, but not this time. Ayaka never seemed to get a break.

"What do you think of the paint job on the class rep's plane?" Makie asked. The girls invited to travel with Ayaka to Wales had seen it that morning. Their home room teacher's smiling face covered a third of the private jet's exterior.

"It's really something," Akira remarked politely.

"Yeah, but do you want to ride in that?" the gymnast asked.

"Well, I want to go to Wales," Ako said. The pale-haired girl hoped to meet with Negi's cousin on the trip. "And that's the only way."

"You're pretty quiet Yuna," Makie observed. "Is anything wrong?"

"No, nothing," the girl replied. She spotted Kotaro up ahead; his head twisted around as if searching for something. "Isn't that Natsumi's little brother?"

"That's him alright," Ako answered. "He's in the infirmary enough that I recognize him on sight."

"You don't think he's lost do you?" Akira asked.

"Let's help him," Yuna suggested. "Hey Kotaro."

The boy turned and waved in greeting.

"You're sister, Chizuru and Ayaka are over at the stage," Yuna told him as the girls approached.

"I know that," the boy replied. He pointed to a nearby building. "How far would you say that is from the stage?"

"About 400 meters," Yuna replied.

"Closer to 500," Akira corrected.

"Thought so," the boy cryptically commented. "See you later."

They watched as he rushed off, weaving his way around the knots of people. "I wonder what his hurry is," Makie said. "Where are you going Yuna?"

"I'll be back," the girl called over her shoulder as she hiked up the yukata and took off in pursuit. She caught up to the boy behind the building. Leaning over, hands on knees, Yuna gasped for air. "You're fast for a little kid," she finally managed to say.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," she replied. "You're up to something. What is it?"

Yuna watched the boy's face as he considered his answer. She could imagine the little gears in his head spinning wildly and wanted to laugh aloud. "You remember that Hiro guy?" he asked.

The girl nodded in response and Kotaro continued. "I think he's planning on causing trouble during the closing ceremony."

"Are you serious?" she asked in shock. "Why would he do that?"

"Ayaka clocked him pretty good when she found out what he was up to," the boy told her. "He could still be plenty mad."

"I checked around the stage earlier," he said, "and this is the only place left with a clear view of the stage."

A large grin appeared on the basketball player's face. "So what are we going to do?"

"I'm going to check it out," Kotaro answered. "And you're going to stay out of this."

"As if," Yuna replied.

"You'd just be in the way," the boy insisted. "Unlike Negi, I don't need a partner."

Something clicked in Yuna's mind at the word partner. The phrase 'Future Partners' had bothered her since she read them on the back of the photograph. Negi would have been a baby when she was five and he came from Wales. At the beginning of the year, Asuna had mentioned he needed a partner or something bad would happen. Could it be that the white bundle she was holding in the picture was her homeroom teacher? Was it possible her mother had intended for them to get together? Married? Family?

Her head began to ache as thoughts collided against one another. The dark-haired girl shook her head and thrust that line of reasoning away for the time being. "You may not need a partner," she told Kotaro, "but you've got one now."

To Yuna's surprise, he quickly caved in. "You start on the ground floor and I'll take the roof," the boy said. "We'll meet somewhere in the middle."

"How are you getting to the roof?"

"See that tree?" he replied while pointing to a tall tree near the building. "That branch goes nearly to the roof."

Yuna didn't think the branch was that close, but she watched as Kotaro scampered up the tree as easily as a monkey. He ran across the limb and the end bent under his weight. It snapped back and propelled the boy upward. His hand caught hold of the roof's edge and he pulled himself over.

Once he was out of sight, she stripped the yukata off, revealing her gym uniform. "He's so predictable," she thought, sprinting towards the tree. "If he's on the roof, that's where the action is."

Yuna found the climb harder than she expected. After pausing for a short rest, she inched her way across the limb, stopping as it bent too far for her comfort. The roof didn't look any closer here than it had from the ground. She backed up to the trunk and considered her next move. Deciding that if Natsumi's little brother could do it, so could she, Yuna sprang forward. The branch bent under her as she prepared to leap, and the sound of a "crack" filled her ears.

Had this been a movie, no doubt she would have a clever comment to make. At the moment however, the only thought she had was "Oh, shit!" Desperately, Yuna flung her hand out and grabbed hold of a window ledge. She pulled herself onto the narrow space and spent the next few minutes thanking heaven for the divine intervention. Clinging to her perch, she looked up at the roof that was so tantalizingly close.

Refusing to surrender, she stood and braced each foot against the window frame. Cautiously, she inched her way higher. Still, the roof was just out of reach. Mustering her last bit of courage, she dug her fingertips into the gaps between the bricks and lifted her foot to the thin lip of the frame. Moving without further thought, she pushed up and grasped the roof edge. A moment more and she lay on the roof, fighting the urge to be sick.

She was behind the housing for the stairs and though she couldn't see them, Yuna heard Kotaro and Hiro speaking.

"I feel stupid, falling for that you're-after-her-money story," the younger boy said. "So you're a professional killer huh?"

"That's right," Hiro answered. "And Ayaka Yukihiro's my target."

Another wave of nausea rolled over Yuna. "Killer?" she thought as she managed to get unsteadily to her feet.

"So what are you going to do about it?" the assassin asked.

"Nothing," the boy replied.

"Nothing?"

"You're not going to pull the trigger," Kotaro said flatly.

"How do you figure that?"

"Over the past few weeks, you've had any number of opportunities kill her, but you haven't," Kotaro pointed out. "And when you came back all beat up and stuff, I thought that guy got the drop on you. You just wanted to pulverize the creep for hitting Ayaka didn't you?"

"Today, in your room, I find a clue that tells me where you'll be," he continued. "You want me to stop you."

Yuna heard the sound of a rifle bolt ram home as Hiro responded, "Don't count on it."

The loudspeaker from the stage announced that recognition of the committees was next. Yuna stepped from behind the stairs to confront them. "Stop him!" she yelled.

"Stay out of it Yuna!" Kotaro shouted back. "I know what I'm doing!"

The loudspeaker boomed out "From Mahora Middle School, Miss Ayaka Yukirio."

Hiro raised the rifle to his shoulder. To Yuna's eye, he moved in slow motion as she leaped into action. Kotaro dove to intercept her, but she had played basketball long enough to know how to fake an opponent. She started right, stopped and spun to her left, continuing around the boy as his momentum carried him past. She hit Hiro with a flying tackle.

Her elation turned to terror as she felt both of them plummet over the edge. Jerking to a sudden stop, she watched the man strike the pavement below. Holding her ankles, Kotaro hauled her back onto the roof. The sound of Ayaka's thunderous ovation carried to them as Yuna buried her face into the boy's shoulder and sobbed until her tears ran dry.

Four stories below, a crumpled form lay unmoving. A custom made, sniper's rifle rested a few meters away. Too small for most people to spot, a grey-winged moth hovered over the body. As it began to flutter away, it was attracted to something that gleamed in the light. The insubstantial creature alighted upon a locket shaped as a pair of intertwined hearts. Its wings furled and unfurled in a steady pattern like a beating heart. Once again the moth took to the air, returned to the still body and waited as if it had all of eternity.


End file.
